Astray
by CaptScarlett
Summary: A 'what if' story, set during the novel 'Scarlett', around the time of Cat's birth.
1. Chapter 1

**Usual disclaimers apply.**

**A/N: My first attempt at GWTW fanfic, and my first attempt at what, for me, constitutes a longish fic ie. more than a vignette. I've reached a point with this where, even though I know it could be better, I'm posting it because I'm fed up with fiddling with it. It also means I have to concentrate on the following chapters because hopefully someone out there will want to read them. (I blame my decision to post this on the glass of wine I had before lunch - something I never do, but work is making me crazy - and the resulting wonky head and inability to stop laughing at nothing! Lol.)**

**This takes place during_ Scarlett_**** around the time of the birth of Cat. I've just tweaked things to suit, and, hey, why not. This chapter explores what she might have done during those several hours spent waiting for the doctor/midwife/blacksmith/etc to arrive. Just lie on a table doing nothing? Scarlett O'Hara? Never! **

**I hope you enjoy it. **

Lightning flashed across the sky as Rosaleen Fitzpatrick peered worriedly out into the wild night. Halloween in Ireland was not the night to be having a baby. She was a practical woman, but the notion held by many that every ghost and ghoul that ever was would be wandering the earth this night, sent a shiver down her spine. Superstitious simpletons, the lot of them, she thought to herself, as she drew her shawl tighter around her shoulders and tried to shake off the feeling.

"Would you get me a pen and some writing paper, please Mrs Fitz," Scarlett's voice penetrated her troubled thoughts and she turned away from the darkness. "I need to write someone a letter."

"Of course," she replied softly.

Rosaleen moved away from the window and walked past the kitchen table where Scarlett was lying on a mattress to retrieve the items that had been requested. She hesitated for a moment in the doorway and turned to look back at Scarlett, as if contemplating refusing her, then thought better of it and hurried out of the room.

Her mistress had a bright-eyed, feverish look about her now that made Rosaleen desperately worried. Scarlett was still haemorrhaging, although not as heavily as she had been just after her water had broken. But Mrs Fitzpatrick had enough knowledge and experience of childbirth to know just how serious Scarlett's condition was.

The contractions weren't any closer together than they had been an hour ago, and if she continued losing blood the way she was she surely wouldn't survive this ordeal.

Dear Lord, what was taking Colum so long to get back with the doctor? Scarlett might bleed to death before they ever arrived. And what of the poor babe? Oh, she couldn't bear to think of it!

She found what she was looking for in the bureau in the small sitting room off the kitchen and, taking a deep breath to calm her jangled nerves, turned and made her way back to Scarlett.

"Who are you going to write to, Mrs O?" she asked on her return, trying to arrange her face so as not to reveal the frightening thoughts that were running through her mind. She put the materials down and helped Scarlett to lie on her side.

"Oh, just a friend in America, Mrs Fitz," she replied, propping herself up on her left elbow and breathing heavily as she tried to get comfortable against the pillows supporting her.

"Hand me a clean towel please so I can wipe my hands. No-one will want to receive a letter with blood on it, now will they?" she said with a half smile, but her attempt to lighten the mood fell flat. Mrs Fitzpatrick could only stare in horror at her words before she reached into a drawer for a clean tea towel and handed it over to Scarlett.

When she had wiped her hands, she smoothed the paper against the thick recipe book the housekeeper had provided for her to press on, and set her mind to the task at hand.

Just a friend. Ha, she thought. If only it were that simple.

God, what a thing to have to write, she groaned to herself. With luck I'll make it through this and he'll never have to read it. Oh, Rhett I wish you were here. God knows we need you so right now.

She took a deep breath and began.

_My dearest Rhett,_

_If you are reading this then- _

_No, I can't start a letter like that, because in spite of my current situation, or perhaps because of it, it makes me want to laugh! People, I suppose, all react differently when faced with their own mortality. _

_I am having a baby, Rhett, our baby, and I am not sure I will survive it. Yes, I was carrying our child when I left Charleston, although I was still unaware of it at the time. I only realised shortly after leaving Savannah for Ireland that I was expecting._

_I am now in labour after a difficult pregnancy and nothing is as it should be. Hopefully the doctor will know what to do should he ever get here, but as things stand at the moment, I'm unsure how likely it is that I am going to make it through this. Hence I am writing you this letter._

_You must believe that I had every intention of telling you about this child - how could I not when it was the surest way of getting you back. But I wanted you to want me for me, not because of a baby, so I chose not to tell you straight away. A decision you cannot imagine how deeply I regret. _

_I never dreamt for a moment that you'd actually go ahead and seek the divorce, let alone succeed in having it granted. Or remarry as quickly as you did. When I received your letter informing me of it - well, as you can probably imagine, I was beyond shocked._

_I wanted to tell you about the baby, Rhett, you must know that I did, but I was so afraid you would come and take her from me that I couldn't bring myself to do so once I heard of your marriage. I know you'd never leave Anne for me. I think you know it too. _

_In all honesty, I am still surprised you married her. I never thought you'd marry anyone if you ever found yourself single once more - after all, you always maintained you weren't a marrying man - but you did and there is nothing I can do about that. She reminded me so of Melly, and I imagine you as well, that I suppose I can understand your reasoning. You did the honourable thing for once, and believe me when I tell you that the irony is not lost on me. _

_I often wonder, Rhett, does Anne make you happy? I truly hope she does. _

_Is she expecting as well? The thought of you being with someone else, of her carrying your baby, tears at my heart and so I try, and for the most part succeed in not thinking about it._

_Mrs Fitzpatrick, my housekeeper and a woman who has been a good friend to me, is keeping me company as I pen this letter, although I haven't told her to whom it is that I write. The details of our delicate situation are not known to the people of my town. Once I discovered I was having a baby without a husband, I told everyone I was a widow. Which, strictly speaking, is not an untruth. I just neglected to mention I am also divorced._

_If I'm rambling Rhett, it's because I'm afraid and writing helps me pass the time. I just hope this makes sense to you should you ever have to read it. I can only hope you won't._

_I pray to God our baby survives this even if I don't, and I know you will be every bit the wonderful father that you were to Bonnie this time around as well._

_Please tell our daughter - I can't believe it won't be a girl, but of course I may be proved wrong - the good things about our life together. I don't expect you to conceal the bad, Rhett, but she must know that I loved you with everything I had in me, even if I realised it only when it was too late for us. Please believe that._

_I have loved her so very much these nine months we spent together. More than I ever thought I could love anyone. That's another irony, my finally realising what it is to love a child when it is too late. It makes me so sad, not only for myself, but for my other children as well. I can only hope that I will have the opportunity to make it up to Wade and Ella. Bonnie will never know. _

_Thank you for loving her as much as you did. _

_This baby's the only thing I've had to hold onto that's allowed me to live with the hurt of losing you, and I love her all the more for affording me that luxury._

_I will ask my cousin Colum O'Hara to deliver this letter to you personally. It is not after all the sort of correspondence you would expect to find in your mail box. He is a priest and a good man, and someone in whom I have confided, in some detail, the story of our marriage. _

_Colum will offer you any support you may need. He has been my rock these last few months. What I would have done without him I cannot begin to imagine. _

_I believe you still care about me, Rhett, despite all that transpired between us. I just hope you forgive me for the way things have turned out between us and the part I played in the disaster that was our marriage. I pray that you have found happiness, and some peace, in your life with Anne. I dare say she makes you a better wife than I ever did. _

_Love our baby with everything you have in you. I know you will, just as I would have done had I had the chance. I hope you can believe that because it is the truth. I have no reason to lie to you now._

_I hope this letter never sees the light of day, but I fear that will be unlikely. Please take care of yourself, my darling. I wish you the very best of everything in your life._

_With all my love _

_Scarlett._

Satisfied, Scarlett took the envelope that Rosaleen offered her and managed to scrawl down Eleanor Butler's Battery address. She felt so weak now she just hoped the postman would be able to make out her direction. Her penmanship, of which she had always been proud, had degenerated into a messy scrawl by the end of the letter and she could only hope its contents wasn't garbled nonsense as well.

Then she carefully folded the letter and slid in into the envelope with a sense of great relief. If necessary, Rhett would know how she felt, know how much she loved him and their baby.

If necessary.

She prayed it wouldn't be.

"Put that somewhere for me would you please, Mrs Fitz."

Rosaleen took the letter from her and put it down on the kitchen shelf as the door opened admitting Colum amidst a gust of wind and rain.

"Oh Colum, thank god," cried Mrs Fitz, rushing towards him and struggling to help remove his drenched coat.

"She's kept busy writing a letter, but she's becoming weaker by the minute," she whispered urgently. "The bleeding is less, but she needs to get this baby born now. Where in heaven's name is the doctor?"

He held her gaze for a moment, but said nothing. Then he patted her arm in what he hoped was a reassuring manner, trying to ease the lines of worry etched on her face, and turned to face his cousin. He smiled at her and took her small, cold hand in his, rubbing his thumb gently over the knuckles.

"Scarlett darling, the river's flooded the road to Trim," Colum told her quietly. "The doctor can't come."

Rosaleen's hand went to her mouth as she let out a quiet gasp. Scarlett's pale face lost the hope it had held at seeing her cousin return, fear now plainly evident in her eyes.

"Oh, Colum, but… " she trailed off meekly and lowered her lashes to hide the tears pricking her eyes.

"Don't you fret now, aroon. I've managed to find a midwife in Dunshaughlin. She'll be here any minute, her horse just wasn't as fast as mine. She knows everything there is to know about bringing babies. She'll do just as grand a job as any doctor could." He addressed Scarlett with an false enthusiasm he hoped would mask the alarm he had felt at the sight of the blood-soaked towels that were lying in the sink.

He squeezed her hand reassuringly. "She'll take good care of you."

TBC

**Well, do I continue? I have a couple more chapters mostly done, so please tell me what you think. J**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N Thank you so much to everyone who left reviews for part 1. I am thrilled it was well-received. Y'all made my week.**

**For those unfamiliar with Scarlett, ****Cat's birthdate is 31 October 1875. **

**This chapter starts with a flashback to earlier in the year, and then we go back to the present, picking up towards the end of 1875. This chapter deals with an aspect of the book that I find unrealistic (and consequently hate!) but the story hinges on it. Mine does not. **

**I really like this chapter, I hope you do too.**

**FLASHBACK: April 1875**

"Why on earth should I marry her, Mama?" asked Rhett, pacing back and forth before his mother in the small study of her house on the Battery.

"You know perfectly well Anne's been compromised, Rhett, and the rules of society dictate that-" From his look, Eleanor Butler bit down on what more she wanted to say, knowing full well her son's opinions on that subject had not changed since the last time they'd found themselves in this situation so many years before.

"Well, you're familiar with them, I'm sure." she finished quietly.

"Mmmm." He did not need a lecture on propriety.

"Besides," she continued, undeterred, "there's a nasty rumour circulating that you've divorced your wife." She carefully avoided meeting his penetrating gaze as she spoke.

"However do these things get started?"

He sat down in the wingback chair next to his mother's and took a sip of brandy, his voice laden with sarcasm.

"Be serious Rhett. You can't use the fact that you're a married man as an excuse any more," Eleanor pointed out.

"It's just a rumour, Mama. I'll tell people if they ask that they've been misinformed, that I'm still married. It's not as if my divorce is common knowledge, and I don't imagine any of the family is going to broadcast the news." he countered.

"Rhett, you must be reasonable. These things always come to light eventually."

He sighed heavily, flinging his cigar stub into the fire.

"I can't marry her Mama, it goes against everything in me. She has all my sympathy for the situation that she finds herself in, but I won't marry someone I don't love." There was a finality to his words that Eleanor could not fail to hear.

"But she loves you," she offered, "…and perhaps in time you may come to-"

"Good Lord Mother!" he rounded on her, exasperation clear in his expression. "I never took you for a soppy sentimentalist. Love isn't enough to make a successful union. You know that as well as anyone. Especially a love that's unrequited. I won't be a party to a such marriage, not again."

Eleanor Butler raised her eyebrows at his comment, but said nothing. She knew little of her son's failed venture into wedlock, but she did know enough to be sure that there had been love on both sides. With personalities such as his and Scarlett's there were bound to be fireworks, but what had caused everything to go so horribly wrong between them she still didn't know. She hoped that in time he would come to confide in her some of those details.

"I'm not interested in Miss Hampton, Mama, and that is something I can promise you is not going to change. I do care about her, she's a sweet girl, but I can't see her as anything more than that." He slumped back in his chair and stared darkly into the flickering flames.

"Love isn't enough when two people are as different as we are. Anne's barely more than a child. She doesn't yet know her own heart. She may think herself in love with me but it's a childish infatuation. It'll pass. Besides, you can't really love somebody you don't know. I'm not sure she'd even like me if she knew the real Rhett Butler."

There's only one woman I know who can do that. Well, perhaps two, he admitted to himself.

He took a deep breath and turned to face his mother.

"Mama, I spent five years living with a woman who didn't love me." Eleanor reached out and touched her son's cheek at his words. He took her hand in his and kissed the palm before releasing it.

"I wouldn't want Anne to suffer the way I did. She may be young, but she's not stupid. She'll realise sooner or later that I don't love her, that I will never feel anything more than affection for her, and she'll come to hate me for it. I don't want to see her life wasted that way. She deserves better than that, better than anything I can offer her."

"Oh, but Rhett, she'll be ruined!"

He got up out of his chair once more and walked towards the fireplace. He rested his elbow on the mantle-piece and absently fingered the china figurine standing there, considering what more he could say. The room was silent for several moments save the crackling of the fire, before Rhett once more turned to his mother and spoke.

"Times are changing, Mama. Have changed since the war. This isn't thirty years ago. And it's not as if she'll be having a baby in 9 months."

"Rhett!"

He smiled at her shocked expression.

"Oh Mama, calm yourself. God knows I'm so sick of polite society's ridiculous rules. Why shouldn't people believe what I tell them. We were searching for an orphan and couldn't locate him before nightfall. It is that simple. There's no crime in that, is there? And it's not as if it's a lie. Why should we be punished for something that was beyond our control?"

When Eleanor said nothing he continued.

"I hope I have a little more standing in this community than I did the last time I was run out of town. Some semblance of respectability, even if it's only that. I'm a grown man, for heaven's sake, and a middle-aged one at that, not some hormone-driven teenager. People will react differently this time, they'll understand." He sounded as if he were trying to convince himself as much as he was her.

"What if they don't?"

"I've made up my mind. I won't marry her."

Eleanor sighed. She knew there was no point in pursuing the matter further. Once he had made up his mind, Rhett could not be prevailed upon to change it. She took a few moments, carefully considering her next words, then looked her son in the eyes and spoke.

"Edward Cooper seems to have a sincere affection for Anne," she said slowly. "Perhaps-"

"Thank you, Mama," he breathed quietly.

"I only want what's best for you, my darling, and I'll support you in whatever decision you take."

"Not marrying Miss Hampton is what's best for me." He leaned down and kissed the top of her head. "I'll speak to Edward first thing in the morning, but my resolution remains the same, whatever his thoughts are on the matter. I'm not going to change my mind."

Eleanor knew she would have to leave it there. While she felt she had done her duty in trying to convince Rhett to do what was right by Anne, she was secretly pleased her son had a will of his own. It had landed him in trouble on more occasions than she cared to remember, but this time she knew he was right. Anne would not be able to make him happy.

"You're still in love with Scarlett," she said. It wasn't a question.

Rhett sank back down into his chair with a sigh.

"You know me better than sometimes I would wish. And if you weren't my mother I think I might try to deny it, but yes, Mama," he smiled ruefully, "I'm afraid I am."

"You do realise that if you hadn't divorced her, you wouldn't be in this mess."

"Yes, I'm aware of that irony, thank you." he said, running his fingers through his dark hair. "And no 'I told you so's, please, I beg you. I know what your feeling's are on that subject. You've made them abundantly clear on numerous occasions and I can't say I feel the need to hear them again right now. You championed her cause admirably, considering the fact that I am your flesh and blood, and not Scarlett."

"I had my reasons."

"Grandchildren?" He quirked an eyebrow at her.

Eleanor smiled at his question. "No, my dear, your happiness. I know your relationship suffered a great deal following Bonnie's death. No, Rhett, let me speak." She held up her hand to silence him when he moved to interrupt. "I don't pretend to know even half of what went on between you and Scarlett, but it was as plain as day to me, and I'm sure many others, that that girl is desperately in love with you," She paused before adding, "and you with her."

He sighed. "I thought I would get over her, that if I put enough time and distance between us, I'd stop loving her. And for a time I truly believed that was possible." He stared moodily into the fire.

"I was so angry, so hurt by what had happened in our marriage. That's why I came back to Charleston, to give myself some space. I didn't want her anywhere near me. But then she had to come after me, to worm her way back in. She made me fall in love with her all over again. It quite thoroughly ruined all my plans." He couldn't help but smile at himself.

"But then she just disappeared after the accident without telling anyone she was going to Savannah. I thought she was punishing me for treating her the way I had, and I just couldn't take it. I had to make the break."

He paused and Eleanor waited.

"I don't know why I expected her to stay. I told her to leave and for once in her life she had to go and do as I asked. After that I was so determined to win, to beat her this one last time, that I fear I may have shot myself in the foot in the process. I think," he took a deep breath, "I think I may have made a mistake."

Finally he admits it, she thought.

"Well, what are you going to do about it, my boy?"

Rhett chuckled at his mother's effrontery.

"Admit the error of my ways and go crawling back to her?" he asked with a smile, then sobered as he continued.

"I honestly don't know, Mama. I want to make things right between us, really I do. I just don't know what right is. I'm not sure I'm ready to let her back into my life yet. God knows I do love her, and I suppose admitting that to myself is half the battle won. I do believe that she loves me, but I don't know if I'm ready to let go of all the past hurts and forgive her. So many terrible things happened between us.

"I'll be going over to the Landing for a while when this mess with Anne is cleared up. I need some more time to think things through, to make plans. Decide once and for all what it is that I want. All I know for sure is that I'm tired of running away from her."

The truth was he wanted Scarlett back, if she'd have him, he just wasn't ready to admit it aloud.

"If you do decide you want her back, she won't make it easy for you," warned his mother.

"I wouldn't expect her to."

"Women, as a rule, don't take kindly to their husbands divorcing them and I don't imagine Scarlett will be any different. But if she really loves you, as I believe she does, she'll forgive you eventually - once she understands why you felt compelled to do it." Rhett rose and leaned down to kiss her cheek.

"I might just have to explain it to her first," he said, then turned and made his way to the door. If I can find her.

"And another grandchild certainly wouldn't go amiss," Eleanor called after him.

--

When she heard her brother's approaching footsteps, Rosemary Butler crept quietly away from the study door where she had been eavesdropping. She couldn't let that poisonous woman back into Rhett's life, no matter what he thought he wanted. She would only destroy him. And if Rosemary couldn't convince him to marry Anne Hampton, she would have to convince Scarlett to stay away. The further the better.

**END OF FLASHBACK**

**Early December 1875.**

Rosemary stood at the window staring out through the rain at the grey sea towards the east. She hated winter and today was particularly dreary. Her mother was out at one of her charity meetings, Rhett had buried himself at Dunmore Landing and she was alone at home and bored.

"The post come, Ms Rosemary," came a voice from the doorway.

"Thank you, Alice," said Rosemary, and turned to take the silver tray that held the letters from the girl. She bobbed her head and left the room, closing the door behind her.

On the top of the pile was a Christmas card for her mother from one of her old lady friends. Rosemary could tell by the spidery writing that crawled across the paper. She tossed it onto the table and looked through the rest of the post.

There was a correspondence from one of her friends in Columbia. Finally, thought Rosemary. She certainly took her sweet time about writing back. Not that the girl ever had anything to say that was worth reading anyhow, but penning the response would give her something to do later to pass the time. She put the letter aside. She would read it later.

The next envelope caught her eye and caused her stomach to flip over. It was addressed to Rhett, the directions scribbled in a messy, but unmistakable hand.

Rosemary's blood ran cold. It had been over 8 months since she had had any news of Scarlett, and now, large as life, here was a letter from her addressed to her brother. She fought the urge to fling it into the fire, to erase any evidence of it, as her curiosity got the better of her. She was interested to know what Scarlett had to say to him. Would the letter implicate Rosemary in any deception? She had to find out. She could dispose of it later if necessary, without her brother ever knowing it existed. She had done it before. It was for Rhett's own good to have that woman out of his life.

She seated herself in a comfortable chair by the fire, tucked her feet under her, and eagerly tore open the envelope. Scarlett's writing leapt off the page at her. 'My dearest Rhett'. Rosemary snorted in disgust and rolled her eyes at the salutation, before continuing to read.

TBC

**A/N In my opinion, the major flaw of **_**Scarlett**_** is Rhett's marriage to Anne. Mr 'I'm not a marrying man' goes and marries someone he doesn't love after having spent 5 years living with a woman who didn't love him and made him miserable? I don't care if he wanted to make amends with his people, I don't care if he was off his head because Scarlett had disappeared, I just don't buy it. So I wrote it away. I hope you don't find that implausible. Please review. J**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N Again, thanks to all of you who have left reviews for my story. Anyone else who writes knows exactly how much they mean and inspire us to continue. I wanted to write a fic so I could say I that I have done it - one more thing that can be crossed off 'the list' - but of course I want everyone who takes the time to read it to enjoy it as well. I hope you do. Here's part 3.**

Her words swam on the page in front of him before the tears spilled over and rolled down his cheeks. In a matter of seconds, the world had disintegrated around him. Scarlett O'Hara was no longer a part of it, and only an unbearable void remained. His mind was in turmoil, his entire being rebelled against the knowledge. The great love of his life, his reason for being these past 14 years, however much he had tried to deny it, was dead. The thought of it made him sick to his stomach.

When his mother had sent word for him to come home from Dunmore Landing, this was the last thing Rhett had expected to find. A tearful Rosemary had handed him the letter and fled the room sobbing without a word. He knew she had read it, opened it in error she had said, thinking it was addressed to her, and her reaction to it's contents frightened him.

When his mother had told him as gently as she could what to expect, he had merely stared in disbelief. Here was a letter that was clearly written by Scarlett, addressed to him. How could she have written him if she were dead? It simply could not be true. His mother had touched his arm gently, her eyes filled with sadness and sympathy, then left the room, closing the study door softly behind her.

--

And there still he sat, clutching the pages and trying to make sense of what he had read. Trying to rid his mind of the horrors he was imagining she might have gone through.

Her letter raised far more questions than it answered, and a spark of hope had ignited itself in his chest. Parts of it made no sense to him, and the more he read it, the more it confounded him. It was possible she had been delirious, but she seemed so convinced of the veracity of what she wrote. She mentioned a letter from him regarding his marriage to Anne. He hadn't written any such letter telling her he had remarried, simply because it was not true. Where would she have gotten such an idea?

And why had this nightmare come in the post, more than five weeks after it was written? Had it been sent immediately, it would have arrived in mid November, not three weeks later than that. Why the delay? Had she survived the birth and lingered, only to die later? His mind went back to four years earlier, and the severity of her illness following her tumble down the stairs. He had been so convinced that she would die. But she had not. Maybe…

Was the miscarriage the reason she had experienced a difficult pregnancy, one that by the sound of things she should never have gone through? It was his fault. He had killed her. It was on his shoulders as surely as if he had taken out a pistol and pulled the trigger himself.

Rhett took a shaky breath trying to calm himself and steady his jumbled mind.

She had written that her cousin would deliver the letter. Surely if he had been unable to come for some reason, he would have enclosed a cover note explaining what Rhett should expect to find in her letter? Warning him to brace himself against it's contents. Telling him what had in fact become of her and the baby.

Could it have been sent in error? Was she still alive? What about the baby?

Oh God, why had he been such a fool to let her leave his mother's house. He should have at least made sure that she was recovered before ordering her to honour their agreement and leave. He should have found out where she was going, let her know that he cared for her. Made sure she wasn't expecting. That thought had not entered his mind.

He should have stayed after the accident instead of leaving her that accursed note and disappearing into the night without a backward glance. What sort of man deserted a woman under those circumstances? Rhett Butler. That was his answer. Damn his foolish pride and stubbornness.

But he knew that had he stayed, Scarlett would have seen it as an opening, a way to worm her way back in, and he hadn't wanted her. No, that wasn't true. He had wanted her, he'd just been unable reconcile himself with that fact. He'd needed more time, just a few weeks to sort his head out, and oh, what that time had cost him.

Why hadn't he tried harder to find her after she left? He'd run into a series of dead ends in his attempts to locate her and had eventually concluded that if she wanted him to find her, she would not have gone to such extraordinary lengths to conceal from him her whereabouts.

He had simply concluded that she did not love him, and had once again hardened his heart against her. If she did not care, then neither would he.

--

Much later he was still sitting in the study staring blindly into the fire, when he heard a soft knock and Rosemary spoke in a shaky voice from the doorway.

"Rhett, please, I must speak to you about Scarlett. There's something you need to know." He turned to see his sister standing at the door, red-eyed, nervously twisting a handkerchief in her hands. He put his untouched glass of brandy down on the small table beside him and rose.

"Come in, Rosemary," he said quietly. He bent to add another log to the fire and stoked it into life.

When she hesitated Rhett reached out and, taking her hand, led her into the room.

"Sit," he said, gesturing to a chair, "please." When she was settled, he seated himself opposite her and sighed.

"What about Scarlett, Rosemary?"

For several moments she could not answer him, her heart starting to pound even harder, and hot blood settling in her cheeks as she felt his eyes upon her. He was waiting.

"I've-" she swallowed hard, struggling to get the words out. "I've done something Rhett, something I know you'll hate me for when I tell you." She studied the carpet, her face flushed, refusing to look at her brother as she spoke.

"You're my sister Rosemary, I could never hate you."

"Rhett, please, let me say this to you before I lose the courage." She turned to him, a myriad of emotions in her face. "And before you make assertions that you are sure to take back before I have finished."

"All right. What do you want to tell me?" he asked gently, leaning forward and taking her hand in his.

"She-" Rosemary pulled away from him, took a deep breath and spoke in a rush before she could turn coward. "Scarlett didn't just disappear without word when she left here in February. She gave me a note to give to Mama."

"What?" He was on his feet immediately. "But you said you didn't know where she'd gone."

"That part is true. I burned the note without reading it. I didn't want her to keep hurting you."

"My God Rosemary, do you have any idea what not knowing where she went has cost me? Of course you do. You read my letter!" She winced at his outburst and shrank back deeper into her chair. She knew that worse was still to come.

"I'm so sorry, Rhett. I know what I did was wrong. I can't live with myself anymore, without telling you this. It's been eating away at me for months and now with everything that's…" she trailed off. " I have to get it off my chest. I feel like it's all my fault things have turned out the way they have." She swiped at a stray tear making it's way down her cheek.

"Oh really," he sneered as he approached her. "And why, my dear, do you think that might be?" He leaned over her, his hands on the arms of her chair effectively trapping her in it, and she didn't dare look at him as more heated blood make it's way into her face. He jerked her chin upward and her dark eyes met his.

"Perhaps it is because you realise that I may have been able to find her before she disappeared. That if I had known she was in Savannah, I wouldn't have been in such a hurry to divorce her. And if I hadn't divorced her, she wouldn't have hidden herself away from me in Ireland."

Rhett glared at her for several long moments, struggling for control, his breath coming harsh and fast. Then he turned away and walked over to the fireplace, running a hand through his ruffled hair.

He looked back at her, studying her intently as she sat with her head bent, then sighed heavily.

"I shouldn't have frightened you like that, Rosemary," he said quietly. "I apologise. As much as I would like to lay all the blame on you for this, that would be wrong. I certainly don't condone what you did, you've played a big part in this mess, but this isn't all your fault. Scarlett's the one that chose not to tell me she was expecting and stay away. And I'm the one who gave up looking for her. I waited too long to go after her, even once I knew she was in Savannah. And then when I couldn't locate her, I just assumed she didn't want me anymore." He flopped back down in his chair. "I didn't try hard enough to find her."

She knew he was being kind to her by shouldering some of the blame for the sake of maintaining peace within the family. She couldn't bare it. She knew how hard he had looked for Scarlett, how defeated he had been when he had come back home without her.

She had to tell him the rest, no matter what it cost her.

"It isn't just the burnt note Rhett." She studied her lap, her instinct for self preservation warring with the desire to do the right thing. She could feel his eyes upon her. "There's more."

"More?"

"I didn't open your letter by mistake. I knew it said 'Mr' R Butler and not 'Ms'. The address was poorly written, but not so that it was illegible. I recognised her writing and I wanted to know what she had to say to you."

When he said nothing she ploughed on.

"I forged it Rhett," she said in a barely audible whisper.

"I beg your pardon?"

"I started to practise at school, when I was bored during lessons." She twisted her handkerchief around her fingers, still refusing to look at him.

"What the devil are you talking about, Rosemary? What did you forge?" he moved to the edge of his seat, watching her closely.

"The letter Scarlett spoke of, the one she received informing her you were married to Anne. I wrote it. I forged your handwriting and sent it to her."

He was out of his chair in an instant at her words and she shrank back, suddenly afraid of what he might do.

"What? Why? My God, Rosemary, whatever possessed you?" He stared at her in disbelief.

"I could see how miserable you were, Rhett," she pleaded with him. "I overheard you talking to Mama that evening in April, about not marrying Anne. You said that you were thinking of going after Scarlett. I couldn't let you do it, Rhett. Not after the things you told me, the things I'd heard, after all the misery she had caused you. She would only have-"

"What did it say?" He cut her off abruptly. "Your letter."

"Please, I only wanted to spare you any more pain." She reached out a hand to him in an attempt to assuage his anger. He glared down at the offending limb and she hastily withdrew it.

"**What** did you write her?" he repeated. "The truth, please, if that's not too much to ask." His black eyes glittered dangerously and for the first time in her life she was truly afraid of her brother.

"I," she stumbled over her words, "well you, technically, told her you had married Anne. You told her to stay away. That you wanted nothing more to do with her."

For several long moments he said nothing. The crackle of the fire and his heavy breathing were all that broke the silence in the room.

"Why the ruse, Rosemary?" He asked in deceptively calm voice. "Why such an elaborate deception? Oh, of course," he didn't give her time to answer, continuing his train of thought aloud, "you thought it would be more… convincing, if it came from me. You thought she'd be more likely to stay away if I had told her to. If you wrote her yourself, she might in turn have written to me and your lies," he spat the word, "would have been uncovered."

"Rhett, I thought I was- Oh Lord," she groaned, "I don't know what I was thinking. I just couldn't bare to see you as you were when she was here in Charleston. It was so obvious she was making you miserable. I hoped that once she was gone you would be your old self again. Happy, I mean. But you weren't, and it was her fault. I wanted her out of your life for good. I thought that was what you wanted too, but then you started talking like maybe you'd made a mistake in divorcing her, and I knew I had to do something. In all the years you were married to Scarlett, you'd never been happy, not really. I blamed her for it without knowing the full story and took it upon myself to do something about it. I didn't want you to become entangled in her web again. I thought that, given time, you would get over her. But you didn't. It's all my fault, Rhett. I made her believe that you didn't want her. I did it, and now she's dead, and you're going to hate me forever." Tears were streaming down her face as she finished.

"Good God, Rosemary! This is my life you were interfering with! Mine and Scarlett's, not yours! What right could you possibly have had that would entitle you to meddle in my affairs?None!" he shouted. "You had no right!"

"Rhett, please, I'm so sorry. I feel terrible with everything that's happened. If I had even for a moment thought she was expecting, I would never have- Oh, will you ever be able to forgive me?"

"Forgive you? I should kill you for this. My own sister for Christ's sake!" He threw his hands up in disbelief.

"I can't even look at you right now. I need to find out what's become of them. But I can promise you, Rosemary, that I will deal with you later. This isn't over." He stalked passed her towards the door, then stopped as if he had changed his mind, and came swiftly back to her. Rosemary recoiled at his sudden advance, and he bent down and grabbed her upper arms, roughly jerking her to standing.

"You better hope to God they're both alive Rosemary, because if you've cost me the last few months of Scarlett's life I will not be held responsible for what I might do to you. If they are not," he leaned in closer and whispered to her, "you better run, and hide, and pray."

With that he released her abruptly, and she stumbled backwards as he stormed out of the room.

--

**Thanks for reading. Please review. J**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N Here's the next installment. It started to feel suspiciously like hard work after a while (shock, horror!), and it's not my favourite, but I hope you like it just the same. I'm trying to keep this _Scarlett _compliant from her POV - see end A/N, but obviously it isn't from Rhett's. Here's a little 'could have been'... Enjoy.**

* * *

Rhett stormed out of the study and up the stairs to his bedroom. His mind was racing, he couldn't think straight. Rage pulsed through his veins at the thought of what his sister had done. Rosemary had lied to Scarlett, forged his hand and written her a letter filled with lies in some misguided attempt to save her brother from further misery. As a result Scarlett had felt the need to hide from him, to keep their baby a secret and it had may have cost him the last months of her life. She had been alone and afraid half way round the world among relative strangers when she died. He couldn't bare it!

No, he told himself firmly, she wasn't dead. She couldn't be.

Why, oh why had he given up searching for her? After weeks at Dunmore Landing trying to make up his mind, he had finally given in, tired of fighting himself and his feelings, and gone after her. He should have done it sooner, should have tried harder, spent more money. But he had not.

When he'd eventually run out of avenues to look, he had concluded that she just didn't want to be found. That she did not want him in her life. He now knew the reason for her wish to conceal herself from him. It was a baby she feared he would take from her if he knew of it's existence.

Rhett had known from Scarlett's aunts that she had been in Savannah for Pierre Robillard's birthday since her departure from Charleston in February. He had travelled there once he'd resolved that he wanted her back hoping to find her still there. But she had left her grandfather's house by then. The old man told Rhett that Scarlett had been consorting with her O'Hara relations while she had remained in his house. However, following a disagreement between the two she had moved out of the pink mansion and into the far more modest home of one of her cousins. He had neither seen nor heard from his granddaughter since and Rhett got the distinct impression that the gentleman did not particularly care. Thankful for the information, he had bid the old man farewell and made his over to where he had been told the O'Hara's lived.

--

**Flashback to 7 months earlier**

It was a beautiful warm afternoon in mid May as Rhett made his way up the front walk that led to the O'Hara residence on South Broad. He knew he could be just moments away from once again coming face to face with Scarlett and his heartbeat thumped loudly in his ears. How she would receive him he could only guess, but he was more than willing to face her wrath if, once it had spent itself, she would be prepared to take him back. He'd make it all up to her if only she'd let him.

Rhett smoothed his clothes and took a deep breath to calm his nerves. He was about to climb the steps and knock on the large front door when a smaller door at street level opened and a stocky white haired man emerged.

"Good day to you sir," said Rhett removing his hat. "I wonder if you can help me. My name is Butler and I am looking for someone I believe was recently staying here." And hopefully still is, he added to himself.

"Mr Butler is it?" The curious look he gave him did not go unnoticed by Rhett but he passed it off as unimportant. "My name is Colum O'Hara. I take it you are looking for our Katie Scarlett."

Relief washed over Rhett and smile broke out on his face. His search could be all but over.

He held out his hand to the other man who shook it. "Yes, I am looking for Scarlett. Her grandfather informed me she was staying here. Is that still the case?"

"No, I'm afraid not. She left here towards the end of March." Colum turned to lock the door he had just exited, and Rhett's face fell at his words. "The same day I am told," he continued, "that she became a divorced woman." He said it in a good-natured sort of way, and without an accusatory tone, as if he were discussing the weather.

Rhett shifted uncomfortably under the scrutiny of the priest. This brief conversation had taken an unexpected turn and, he feared, not one for the better. He was aware now that this man knew perhaps far more than Rhett would like.

"Can I ask what business it is you want with my cousin, Mr Butler, seeing as how you are no longer married to her? "

"That matter is of a personal nature between Scarlett and myself, and I am not particularly comfortable sharing it with somebody I've just met. I'm sure you can understand that, Father." He said it politely but firmly. If this man did not know the whole sordid story of their marriage and how it ended, Rhett would not be the one to enlighten him. Not only for his own sake at present, but for Scarlett's as well. She certainly would not want him airing their dirty laundry. "Our relationship in the past has been, shall we say, complicated. But if you know any of the specifics of our marriage then you will know that neither of us was blameless in its coming to an end."

"That is true perhaps, but you are the one who chose to dissolve it." Colum pointed out.

Rhett bristled. How was what had transpired between him and Scarlett any of this man's business? He might be her family, but Rhett had known her a lot longer and probably a lot better than this man ever would. He took a deep breath.

"I had my reasons for doing what I did."

"I'm sure you did, sir." Colum said, and walked passed Rhett towards the small front gate. He stopped for a moment, as if considering what more he should say, then turned back to Rhett. "Has it occurred to you that Scarlett may not wish to see you? Your recent actions have hurt her very badly."

Rhett said nothing. Of course he had thought such things, but whenever they encroached on his mind he pushed them away. She would forgive him eventually. She had to.

"Scarlett has been in Ireland these past 6 weeks," Colum offered, and Rhett's heart flip-flopped in his chest at the news. "She left Galway the same day I did."

"Was she on the same ship? Has she returned to America?" He felt as if he were finally getting somewhere.

"No, she didn't leave on the Brian Boru. She was going to remain in Europe. I believe she mentioned a particular desire to see France."

Scarlett had always wanted to visit France. Rhett had talked enthusiastically of Paris with its high fashions and fabulous cuisine, and she had wanted to see it ever since that long ago day during the war when he had surprised her with a green taffeta and watered silk bonnet. He had wanted to be the one to take her of course, but it was hardly a stretch of the imagination to think she may have gone by herself. Or found someone else to take her. The priest was saying something about her looking up her Robillard relations, and Rhett forced himself to pay attention.

"So you think she has gone to France?"

"It is possible," said Colum vaguely, although also extremely unlikely given her current condition, he thought to himself. "But perhaps you believe I am more informed of your former wife's travel arrangements than I am, Mr Butler. I'm afraid I cannot tell you where Scarlett is right now, and nobody else here will know any better than I since I was the last one to see her. Perhaps you should take your search elsewhere." He didn't want this man badgering the rest of the family for information. "Now you'll excuse me if I cut this conversation short, I have some church business to attend to. If I see Katie Scarlett again, I'll be sure to tell her you are looking for her. Good day, sir."

Colum donned his hat and made his way out of the front gate, leaving Rhett behind. He would not be telling this man where his cousin was, not unless Rhett would first divulge to him the reasons he sought her. And he had not. Colum firmly believed that Rhett had a right to know of his child's existence, but Scarlett had been adamant that following his marriage to Anne he should not know she was expecting, and Colum would respect her wishes above the rights of a man he did not know and saw as a potential threat to his cousin's well-being. He knew how much that baby meant to her.

**End of flashback.**

--

Colum O'Hara, Rhett groaned. The name had sounded familiar when he read it in her letter and yet he hadn't been able to place it. He now realised the priest had probably been protecting her from someone he thought could jeopardize her happiness.

He had lied.

No, surely not. He was a man of the cloth, and though they certainly weren't incapable of lying, the thought rankled. Perhaps he hadn't lied, only told the truth selectively. Rhett tried to analyse what more he could remember of their conversation. Had he left any clues that could be useful now? Colum had said he could not tell him where Scarlett was. More likely he would not tell.

He said she had been in Ireland when he left it, but that he did not know where she was. Rhett now realised that he hadn't specifically said that she had left the country, only that he didn't know her present location. She could easily have been in Dublin or Limerick, even back in Galway. Semantics, groaned Rhett to himself. He had just assumed she was no longer there. In reality, she had probably been there the whole time!

Or perhaps he was being unfair to the man. Maybe he really hadn't known where she was. Scarlett could well have left Ireland for a time only to return later. Whatever the case, Rhett now knew from her letter that Colum O'Hara had been a great source of strength and support to Scarlett in her time of need.

But Rhett was still no closer than before to pinning down her exact location.

Damn it! He'd been desperate to find her and yet he hadn't wanted to share the details of why. Not telling Colum what he wanted with her had hardly inspired him to be forthcoming with information in his turn. He probably thought, as Scarlett did, that Rhett had remarried. He could easily have contradicted that ridiculous notion and put an end to this nightmare there and then. Of course the man would have protected her. He must have known she was expecting and what Scarlett's fears were regarding losing the baby to her ex-husband and his new wife.

But how could he tell a complete stranger who's relationship with Scarlett Rhett knew nothing about, that he was trying to locate his ex-wife because he regretted divorcing her and wanted the chance to win her back? People didn't just volunteer such personal information to strangers.

As for France, she may have mentioned it in passing, but he now doubted she would ever have gone there with the intention of seeking out her Robillard relations. She made no secret of the fact that she could barely tolerate most of her mother's family. And her French, well it was virtually non-existant. Rhett, however, had latched onto this tidbit and refused to let go of it. He had later gone there in search of her, and, unsurprisingly, found no trace.

--

Following his trip to Savannah, Rhett had gone back to Atlanta. First to the Peachtree Street house, only to find, as he suspected, that she hadn't set foot in the place since the previous November when she had followed him to Charleston. He had then gone to speak with Henry Hamilton. The old lawyer had admitted to receiving a letter from Scarlett saying only that she was going travelling and would not be reachable for some time. 'Travelling' where, Henry did not know, but he presumed somewhere in Europe. That much Rhett had also had suggested to him by Father O'Hara.

She had also signed over her businesses to Henry to run. That had sent up red flag. For Scarlett, who was paranoid about her money and security, to let someone else take care of her financial interests, seemed incongruous to Rhett. Of course, in addition to her own small fortune, she had the 500 000 dollars he had promised her in return for her getting out of his life for good, so she would never be short of money, even if she chose to use it as kindling. But those actions still didn't ring true of Scarlett.

Now however, it made sense to him. She had given up control to a man she could trust to look after her interests in order to remain hidden. She must have been desperate indeed, he thought to himself, to resort to what, for Scarlett, was such a drastic measure.

Why hadn't he thought to look in Ireland? Never mind what he had been told by her O'Hara kin. The fact that he could see the priest didn't trust him should have led him to look there first. Oh, what a damn fool he was!

He had to go to Ireland and find out what had become of her. She wasn't be dead. It just couldn't be true. He would not believe it until he was told it by someone who knew. Someone who had been there.

--

"Manigo!" he shouted down over the banisters.

"Rhett, darling?" called his mother, coming out onto the landing from the upstairs drawing room where she had been waiting for him to emerge from the study following his conversation with his sister.

"I'm leaving Mama, as soon as possible. I have to go to Ireland. I need to find out for certain what has become of Scarlett. I'm going out to purchase a ticket for the next ship. They sail tomorrow."

"But, Rhett, you're in no state- Do you have any idea where to go? Perhaps you should return to Savannah, speak to her family. They may know something more, or they could at least tell you where you should start looking?"

She was the voice of reason, he knew, but he didn't have the time to spare. "I have to go on the next boat, Mama. They won't sail again for another week after that and I can't waste that sort of time. I'll work out the details when I get there." He paused as his mind worked. "I'll send a telegram to Sally's baronet friend, John Morland. The one I've been in correspondence with recently about buying some horses for the Dunmore hunt. He has an estate over there. I'll ask him to set things in motion for me, perhaps hire someone on my behalf to instigate a search. Oh, I don't know," he groaned. "All I do know is that I have to get to Ireland."

He leaned down and kissed her briefly on the cheek. "Just tell Manigo to pack a trunk for me, please. I don't know how long I'll be gone."

Eleanor put a steadying hand on his forearm and studied him with concern in her eyes.

"Please, Mama, not now. I can't afford to waste another minute. Not when I still have hope." At the confusion in her face, he said, "I'll explain when I get back." She removed her hand and he was gone, his light footfalls echoing in the hall as he made his way down the stairs.

He would get a berth on that next ship if he had to buy the vessel in order to do so.

--

**A/N Colum does return to America in May following May Day celebrations. Scarlett was due to come back with him but at that stage in the novel she receives word (from the aunts) that Rhett has married Anne and decides to remain in Ireland. Thanks for reading. Please review. J**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Thanks to everyone for leaving reviews. They inspire me to continue. I particularly like the end of this chapter, I hope you do too. Here goes...**

The journey across the Atlantic on the Golden Fleece had seemed the longest two weeks and a day of Rhett Butler's life. There had been a several hours delay in leaving, but they had made good time, and arrived on schedule in Galway, just a couple of days before Christmas. To Rhett, however, it had seemed an eternity.

Despite being a life-long lover of the sea and sailing, cabin fever had set in almost immediately and Rhett had struggled to be pleasant to those around him, preferring instead to keep his own company rather than mixing with the other passengers. He had too much on his mind, too many conflicting emotions warring within him. While a part of him could not wait for the journey to be over, he was also dreading what he might find once he arrived in Ireland. He feared that she was dead, but while he was still uncertain of Scarlett's and their baby's fates he could still harbour hope that things had turned out well. If he discovered that they had not survived, he might well prefer to have lived the rest of his life with the disquiet that comes of not knowing.

--

On disembarking the ship in Galway, Rhett had reclaimed his bags from a porter, hired a cab and made his way over to the local train station. He had received a reply to his cable shortly before the ship had sailed from Charleston, informing him he was expected at Morland Hall and that the baronet would be looking into finding Scarlett. Hopefully Rhett would know for sure what had become of her before the day was out.

He purchased a first class ticket for the first available train north to Trim and settled himself comfortably in one of the carriages. The day was cold and wet and Rhett wondered, as he often did when he found himself in Europe during the winter months, why it was that people made their homes in such inhospitable places if they had the choice to be elsewhere. It had barely been light when the ship had docked that morning and he feared it would be dark by the time he arrived at his destination. Of course Ireland, he knew, was a beautiful country, but like anywhere in northern Europe, it could be particularly unpleasant during the winter months when the early darkness set in. And when you threw interminable rain into the mix, it became doubly so. It did nothing to lighten his mood.

The journey would take several hours, and Rhett closed his eyes for a time as he waited for the train to pull out of the station. Proper sleep had eluded him since he had received her letter sixteen days earlier and he doubted he would get much relief now. He was too close to finding the answers he sought.

He had requested in his telegram informing John Morland he was coming to Ireland, that the baronet hire a man on Rhett's behalf to begin a search for one Katie Scarlett Butler, or O'Hara. He had not included her other married names as he doubted she would have resorted to using one of them. But if no luck was had with Butler or O'Hara, he would have to try those as well. Rhett didn't think she would have changed her name completely, but he wouldn't put it passed her since he knew she did not want to be found. If she was going by another name however, it would make things considerably more difficult for him.

When they finally got underway, he stared out of the rain-streaked window as the train chugged doggedly across the grey landscape. On its arrival in Trim, he would either be met, as he presumed, by the baronet's coach, or he would simply hire himself a horse. He hoped if that were necessary, there would be one to be had.

--

To Rhett's relief there was a carriage to meet the train when it arrived in Trim, and it took him directly along the bumpy country lanes to Morland Hall near Dunsany.

The estate, when it came into view, was a large stone hodge podge of building work that had been undertaken by its assorted owners over the last two centuries. It was not an unattractive residence however, the various additions having blended well with those that had come before.

As they pulled up to the house the large front doors opened and a man he presumed to be Sir John Morland appeared on the steps, accompanied by a pair of bloodhounds. The dogs ignored the carriage and its occupant and charged off into grounds of the estate, barking in the early evening gloom. They had probably been cooped up for too long. Rhett knew how they felt.

He climbed out of the carriage, hat in hand, as Morland came down the stairs to meet him. A warm welcoming smile split his face and Rhett tried not to read too much into it. He didn't want to raise his hopes up too high.

"Sir John. Rhett Butler. How do you do." He held out his hand to the other man.

The baronet was a slight English gentleman with sandy blond hair of around 40 years of age, who made Ireland his home for most of the year except when he was expected by his mother in London for the social season. His skills in that department, Rhett knew from Sally Brewton, left something to be desired. He was the sort of man who was ill at ease in the company of strangers and could have easily forgone the pleasures of high society in favour of remaining with his prize horses. His head was either in the clouds or the sand regarding most everything else.

"Mr Butler, a pleasure to meet you at last. Please call me Bart, all my friends do. And any friend of dear Sally's is a friend of mine."

"Thank you, I will." he said as Morland took hold of his hand and pumped it a little too vigorously than was necessary.

"Come inside, please. I have a wonderful blaze going in the drawing room. The weather can be beastly this time of year I'm afraid. You really ought to come over and visit during the summer months. It is quite lovely then. Almost makes me forget how much I hate it here in the wintertime." He laughed in a good-natured sort of way. "This way, please. My man will bring in your luggage and take it upstairs to your rooms."

"Thank you." Rhett followed him into the imposing house. The hallway was lit by a magnificent bespoke chandelier that hung from the ceiling several floors above. There was certainly nothing provincial about this place.

"You'll forgive me if I sound rude or impatient, but I must know. Have you done as I asked in my telegram?"

"I did as you requested, yes. I employed a detective on your behalf to look for the woman you sought."

"And? What did he find?" Morland hesitated for a moment. "I know I provided you with scant detail, but has he had any joy at all in locating Scarlett?"

"Come through to the warmth. We can have a drink and talk. You've had a long trip and I know you must be anxious." Rhett put a hand on his arm to stop him. The man seemed suddenly uncomfortable and Rhett didn't think it was his social unease that was to blame.

"What have you discovered? Please, I must know."

"I have news," he said awkwardly, "and, well, I'm afraid it isn't good." He found it difficult to meet Rhett's intense gaze. He was not looking forward to delivering the news of what he had discovered to this man. He lead the way into the drawing room and Rhett followed behind.

"What is it?" He was almost too afraid to ask, and his heart was rapidly sinking as his hope began to fade.

Bart went over to the drinks cabinet and removed a decanter of brandy and two glasses. He poured a couple of drinks and handed one to Rhett, then took a seat near the fire and gestured for Rhett to do the same. He could feel the man's dark eyes boring into him. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair and took a large gulp of his drink before he spoke. Rhett's, he noticed, remained untouched.

"As I said before, I hired a man as you requested to look for a Katie Scarlett Butler or O'Hara. He found no trace of anyone bearing the name of Butler, but he very quickly discovered a Katie Scarlett O'Hara." He took a deep breath. Best to get it over with as quickly as possible.

"Her date of death was entered in the church records as 31 October 1875." Rhett looked away. All the air had left his lungs. "She's buried in the graveyard in a village not too far from here called Ballyhara." Morland paused for a moment. "Does this information concur with what you were expecting?"

Rhett nodded. It did.

He couldn't breathe. He felt sick.

She was gone from his life forever.

"I'm very sorry," said Morland quietly. "I wish we could have met under happier circumstances. You are welcome to take the carriage or ride over to Ballyhara in the morning if you'd like. I am at your disposal." He didn't know what else to say. At least the other man appeared composed. Any displays of wild emotion would have sent him running from the room.

"Thank you."

"Not at all." He cleared his throat nervously. "Was she a relative?" He supposed she must have been, one way or the other. Of the two names he had been provided with, one must have been her married name, but which he wasn't sure. He knew very little about Rhett Butler as they had corresponded only recently and spoken mostly of business. Sally had written the introduction letters but not divulged much. He supposed it wasn't her place to be gossiping about a friend. Or perhaps there was nothing to tell. He did however know that Rhett was unmarried - he had said as much in one of his letters. "Were you close?"

"Yes, we were close." Rhett said quietly. "Did-" He swallowed hard. "Was there any mention of a baby?"

"A baby?" Morland frowned for a moment. "Why no. At least none that I'm aware of, but I haven't read the report personally. I've left it upstairs in your room, sealed for you to open. Perhaps it contains further information that I'm not aware of. The detective only informed me that the woman you sought had died." He shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

Rhett rubbed his hand absently over his stubbled chin, then rose slowly. "If you'll excuse me I'm going to go up to my room for a while. Read through the notes the detective left. I, er-" he didn't know what else to say.

"By all means. You've had a long journey and on top of it an awful shock I fear. Please take your time." Morland stood up, went over to the wall and yanked the bell pull. "I'll have a servant show you to your rooms, and give you time to settle in. Dinner is at 8, but if you would prefer a tray in your room I would perfectly understand. If there is anything at all you need in the mean time, please don't hesitate to ring. I would like you to feel at home during your stay here."

"Thank you. I'll be down later." He bowed slightly, then turned and left the room.

--

Rhett followed a servant up the large staircase on leaden legs. He couldn't remember ever having felt so tired. The man showed him to his rooms, told him to please ring if there were anything he required, and then left, closing the door softly behind him. The room was large and richly furnished, yet at the same time had a warm, welcoming feel to it. His trunk had been opened, his belongings packed away, the bed was neatly turned down. Everything in its place.

Rhett sat down heavily in a large armchair by the fire and stared. He felt numb, but he knew the pain would make itself felt all to soon. He remembered what it had been like to lose her before. But she had not been dead then, only absent from his life. He had found that somehow bearable, knowing she was still a part of the world, even if she were no longer part of his world.

A decanter of brandy and a snifter sat on the gleaming mahogany table opposite him. It was tempting. It would lessen the pain when it came, if only for a short time. He stood up, poured himself a drink and tossed the amber liquid into his mouth with a practised flick of the wrist. It burned its way slowly down his throat. But it would take a lot more liquor than that to have any effect on him and he had promised himself he would not go down that road again.

Rhett had made the decision to stop drinking when he'd moved back to Charleston. The fact that the influences of Atlanta- Scarlett, the house of horrors filled with memories, good and bad- were no longer immediate in his life had made it easier. He still drank socially of course, but he no longer used alcohol to dull his senses or diminish his pain. He knew all too well from experience that it did not work, and that he was merely slowly poisoning himself in the process.

He remembered the pain of losing Bonnie, that knife to his heart when Dr Meade informed them her little neck was broken. He would never again see her smile, hear her laughter, dry her tears. And he could do none of those things for Scarlett now either.

That pain of losing a child was ever-present in his life, but over the months and years that had followed his beloved daughter's death he had somehow learned to live with it. It hadn't diminished, only become easier to accept. He was now able to allow himself the luxury of remembering the joy she had brought to his life, and not focus solely on the way her too short life had so tragically ended.

A lump formed in his throat that he could not swallow and his breathing became ragged. He had hoped against hope that Scarlett would survive, and she had not. She really was dead. And she had been buried here. He couldn't even take her body home and lay her to rest next to Bonnie or her parents. A shudder shook his large frame as the tears started to flow. He made no attempt to stop them.

He would feel this pain. He wanted to feel it. It overrode the guilt to some extent.

Damn his inabilty to control himself that day on the beach, damn that letter he had left her, damn him for not trying harder to find her after she disappeared. Perhaps it wouldn't have changed the final outcome, but at least he could have been with her, held her hand, wiped her tears, promised her everything would be all right, even when he knew that it would not.

Damn Scarlett for leaving him even though he had told her to. And goddamn Rosemary for her interference and deception. Should he feel guilt? He didn't know. Possibly not. There were too many contributing factors that had led him to this point, but he couldn't help feeling it just the same.

He swiped the back of his hand across his face to erase the tears that streaked his cheeks, yet more still fell to replace them. He inhaled deeply and looked over at the large envelope on the table next to his brandy that carried her fate inside it. He had to see. Had to know how it had ended.

With trembling fingers he picked up the package and broke the seal. Would it contain news of his baby? He was afraid to even think it. He slid his hand into the envelope and retrieved the pages inside. Copy of a death certificate. Hand-written note from the detective. He studied it for a moment, looking for any reference to a baby. There was none. Perhaps she had died without ever having had the child and they had been buried as one. There was precious little information, and he would have felt aggrieved indeed at having to pay this man for his work had he had the presence of mind to think of it.

--

**The End.**

**Oh no, wait... TBC. If you're good and review I won't take too long to update. Thanks for reading. J.**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N. Well everyone's been updating like crazy lately while I'm nitpicking over words, so I don't feel too bad for the delay. I am working 7 - 11 at the moment and subsisting on 6 hours of sleep a night, so please be kind. **

Sir John Morland attempted to stifle a yawn, but he was fighting a losing battle against the soporific effects of the drawing room fire. He planted his feet on the carpet in front of him and pushed firmly backwards, moving his chair a little further away from the heat. He doubted it would make much difference.

He wondered how his newly-arrived house guest was getting on upstairs. Rhett seemed a pleasant enough fellow, what he had seen of him thus far. His mind again replayed the events that had recently transpired in this room, but he was still unable to decide what to make of them. Morland stared up at the ornate ceiling above him, and wished he could see what was going on beyond. He didn't dare go up and enquire. He feared he might stumble upon a scene that would be embarrassing to more than just himself, and one that he was not at all equipped to deal with. He was not the type who could provide effective comfort to another, especially someone he had known for only a short time. A woman in tears would send him running for the hills, but a man… Bart shuddered at the thought.

Or perhaps he was letting his imagination run away with him.

Rhett's reaction to the news Bart had delivered him was puzzling. He had been upset certainly, but was it merely bitter disappointment at finding he had come all this way for nothing, or was more? Was it heart-break? Devastation? Despite appearing shaken, Rhett had not gone to pieces, although Morland suspected it was perhaps only pride and self control that had prevented him from falling apart in front of a man he had just met. He really didn't know Rhett well enough to be able to read the man's emotions.

More importantly, he was still not cognizant of all the facts. Rhett hadn't actually told him anything about this woman he had enlisted the baronet's help in finding, aside from her name. Who was this Scarlett to Rhett? Was she a friend, a relation? Had they been lovers?

Perhaps she wasn't anything to Rhett at all. Maybe he was trying to trace her on behalf of someone else and was now in the unpleasant position of having to deliver the bad news to them.

Whatever the case, there was little point in speculating when he knew none of the details. How could one unravel a mystery when you hadn't been presented with all the clues?

Bart was sure the story would be told eventually. The most sensible thing to do would be to ask when Rhett when he reappeared. And if it were none of his business, he was didn't doubt the other man would tell him so. He did however feel he was entitled to at least some explanation after having gone to the trouble of finding her.

He got up from his comfortable position by the fire and went over to the drinks cabinet to pour himself a pre-dinner glass of sherry. It might put him to sleep altogether, but he wasn't expecting his company back downstairs any time soon, so it didn't matter. He replaced the stopper in the carafe and returned it to the cabinet. As he was settling back in his chair, he heard a door close followed by rapid footfalls on the stairs. Moments later the drawing room door opened and Rhett Butler entered the room.

He looked rather the worse for wear. There were dark shadows visible beneath his eyes even in the soft glow of the firelight, but that could simply have been the result of a long and tiring journey.

"Ah, Rhett, excellent," said Bart, rising again as the other man entered the room. "I wasn't sure when you would be joining me. How have you found everything? Is your room quite comfortable? The views out over the lake are incomparable in the summer months, if I do say so myself. It's my favourite of all in the guest quarters."

"Yes, yes. The room is fine, thank you."

"I'm glad. Well, do come in and sit down. What do you say to a glass of sherry before dinner? I think it might be just what the doctor ordered." Rhett seemed distracted, and Bart paused for a moment and studied him with concern. "Are you quite all right? I fear you had an unpleasant surprise earlier this evening." He was fishing for details, but Rhett didn't appear to notice. "It must have been quite a shock for you to find that she was dead."

"You traced the wrong person."

Rhett looked both relieved and agitated at the same time. His heart had soared when he had taken the time to study the information properly, through eyes unclouded by tears. There it had been, plain as day, date of birth April 25, 1775. Cause of death, old age. And no mention of a child.

This couldn't be his Scarlett. Not unless they had entered the information incorrectly, and he would not allow himself to entertain that thought. Not when there were such obvious discrepancies. He refused to believe she was dead, and the knowledge that she might not be had made him want to cry all over again, though this time from intense relief rather than despair.

"I beg your pardon?" asked Morland, a little taken aback.

"The man you hired found the wrong person," he repeated. "I could barely believe it myself when I looked at the copy of the death certificate. The name is the same, and the date of death fits exactly with what I feared, but this woman I believe would have been her grandmother. The birth date is wrong, not just the year, but all of it. And the cause of death." He gestured his point by waving the piece of paper at the baronet. "According to these records she was a hundred years old and died of natural causes. Old age."

Morland took the certificate from Rhett and glanced at it's contents.

"Well, Rhett, I must apologise. I fear I've given you a rather nasty, and as it turns out, quite unnecessary shock. I just assumed we had found the right person. It's hardly a common name." He handed the page back and sat down in his chair, running his fingers absently through his sandy coloured hair.

Rhett waved him off. "It's my own fault, really. I should have provided you with more details in my telegram. Scarlett was named for her father's mother, but I would never have dreamed the old lady could still be alive. How many people do you know of that have made their centenary?" He didn't give Morland time to answer as he paced before the fire. "She must have outlived most of her children. Scarlett's father has been dead nearly ten years." He was talking partly to himself and partly to his host, as he was tried to get his addled brain into working order once more. The knowledge that Scarlett was dead, erroneous though it had been, had rendered his mind all but useless.

"I say, what a frightful coincidence!"

"Quite," said Rhett, his voice laden with irony. His heart had shattered into a thousand pieces when he thought that she was lost to him forever.

"Well, I am pleased for you indeed." Bart pushed himself up out of his chair and made his way back to the liquor cabinet to retrieve the sherry. "This calls for a little celebration!" He poured a glass for Rhett and handed it over, before refilling his own.

"A toast," he said, and they clinked glasses, "to getting things wrong." He chuckled jovially at his own humour and Rhett couldn't help but smile back at him.

"I'll drink to that. It isn't always a bad thing." he said, his relief clearly evident, and put the glass to his lips. The weight that had settled on him two weeks ago was still heavy on his shoulders, but a fragile hope had returned as well. He now believed that if she were dead there would have been some evidence of it. Unless the detective had stopped looking too soon… no, he couldn't think that. He would somehow have known if she had died, he would have felt it.

The two men settled themselves back in front of the fire and sat in comfortable quiet for several minutes savouring their drinks, before Bart spoke.

"You'll forgive me for asking, Rhett, but I must know. If the Katie Scarlett O'Hara we traced is not the one you are looking for, then who is? You still haven't told me and your telegram provided only the name." Rhett leaned his head back in the chair and closed his eyes for a moment, a slight wry smile appearing on his lips. He had known the questions would come eventually.

"You're right, I owe you an explanation after all the trouble you've been to." He drew a deep breath and let it out slowly before continuing. "The woman I'm looking for is my ex-wife."

Morland raised his eyebrows at this piece of information, but made no comment. Sally Brewton had painted Mr Butler as a colourful character, but divorce, particularly in the American South, was almost unheard of. But, he supposed, if it had been good enough for a king of England, why not Rhett Butler. At least he hadn't beheaded anyone. Well, not that Bart was aware of anyhow.

"I divorced her about 9 months ago, shortly after she disappeared. Well, she hadn't disappeared really, I was just lead to believe so by my sister's interference in the matter." He sighed heavily. "I won't give you the specifics, it's a long and exhausting story. Suffice it to say that when I decided I'd made a mistake and went after her, I couldn't find her. I searched everywhere I could think of, but kept running into dead ends. I eventually gave up after concluding that Scarlett was no longer interested.

"Our marriage had been complicated from the start. Probably a mistake even. I dare say I shouldn't have married her at all, but I loved her too much to allow her to slip through my fingers. After she left it wasn't hard for me to believe that, despite the fact that she had said she loved me, I was once again on the losing side." He stared darkly into the flames and Morland waited.

"Then about two and a half weeks ago, I received a very disturbing letter from her. It came completely out of the blue and I'm not even sure I was meant to see it. She was having a baby," he paused and swallowed hard, and Bart knew that it was not for effect, "my baby, and feared she would not survive the birth. She didn't go into detail, but things had obviously gone badly wrong or she wouldn't have felt the need to write such a letter." Bart felt his heart quickened at Rhett's words, but he said nothing. He was loath to interrupt the weaving of his tale.

"Clearly I had no idea she was expecting or I should never have divorced her. In fact I started to regret it almost as soon as the decree had become final. The reason I was unable to find her subsequently was that she had made sure to cover her tracks. My sister had led her to believe, again for reasons I shan't go into, that I had remarried after we'd divorced. Scarlett feared I would come and take the baby from her if I knew of its existence, and raise it with my new wife." It was a valid fear, he supposed. He had accused her more than once of being an unnatural mother to her children.

"As you can imagine, I've been on tenterhooks ever since I received her letter. There are too many unanswered questions surrounding the whole affair. Her cousin for example, should have delivered it, which he failed to do. Furthermore, I received it without any warning of what I was about to read or news confirming the fact that she had died. And nothing at all regarding the fate of the baby. I hope it was sent by mistake, but clearly I can't rest until I know.

"The only information I do have from her letter is that she came to Ireland and made a home for herself here. Where I do not know, but if her grandmother lived in," he briefly consulted the pages in his hand, "Ballyhara, then it is possible that she may be there as well. At least I hope she is," he finished quietly. He still loved her, baby or no, and he just prayed to God it wasn't too late for them.

What an extraordinary tale, thought Bart. Better by far than your average Penny Dreadful, that lurid sensationalist drivel all his servants liked to read. Well, the ones who could read at any rate.

"Why, Ballyhara town is not 10 miles from Dunsany," he said, and a look of hope sparked in Rhett's dark eyes.

"There's a dark history attached to the place, if memory serves. The last owner was hanged by his tenants in a tower near the Boyne more than thirty years ago. I forget why, but the town's been standing empty ever since. The locals maintain it's haunted of course, and that he can be seen some nights out walking the woods, the noose still around his neck and the rope dragging along behind." He smiled. "Delightfully quaint people, the Irish."

Rhett hoped it was not an omen for what he was to find.

"I'll take you there myself in the morning if you like, or at least point you in the right direction should you prefer to go alone. I'm afraid you find me shamefully ignorant of all but the nearest of my neighbours."

"Thank you."

"Not at all my dear fellow. As I said before, I am quite at your disposal." Bart shook his head in bemusement. "But really, what an remarkable coincidence! What are the odds that a woman of the same name should have died on the very night you feared that fate had befallen your baby and it's mother? A peculiar turn of events indeed. I hope for your sake you are right and it is the grandmother." Rhett made no answer, but he hoped it as well.

The two sat in companionable silence for several minutes with only the crackle and spit of the fire breaking the quiet.

"I must say," mused Bart, "that you've certainly provided me with a rather unusual sort of entertainment this evening!" He cleared his throat noisily as he realised what he had just said. "Not that your misfortune is entertaining in any way. I just meant, well-"

Rhett chuckled softly at the irony. "I perfectly understand. In fact I hope one day to be able to look on the events of the last two weeks with a certain sort of twisted fondness. They led me back to the woman I loved and thought was lost to me forever. I shouldn't tempt fate by saying this, but things can't possibly get worse for me than they were an hour ago." What was he saying, he made his own fate. At least he certainly hoped so.

He may still find that she had died. Both Scarlett and their baby. He sobered at the thought and the weight settled itself a little heavier on his shoulders. He could not rest until he knew for certain.

It was going to be a long night.

--

**Edited A/N. Pat yourselves on the back if you guessed right about grandma. Never figured I'd be fooling anyone, except poor Rhett, and I couldn't resist torturing him, even if only for a little while. Chapter 7 up in the next week, hopefully. Thanks for reading and reviewing. J.**


	7. Chapter 7

The next morning Rhett was up and dressed and ready to leave before it was light. He drew back the heavy curtains and peered out into the darkness through a window spattered by the soft-falling rain. He hoped it would have abated by the time he was ready to leave, though it had persisted all yesterday and throughout the night as well.

He and Bart Morland had shared a pleasant evening sitting in front of the fire following the magnificent dinner the baronet had laid on. They spoke of horses mostly, and Bart did not broach the subject of Scarlett again, for which Rhett was grateful. He needed the distraction, and it felt good to turn his thoughts to something else for a while, even if she were ever-present at the edges of his consciousness.

Rhett had retired early to his rooms for what he hoped would be a good night's rest as he was both mentally and physically drained from the stresses of the day. But sleep had eluded him, and he had eventually given in to its promise of release and taken a glass of brandy in an attempt to aid his rest.

But sleep, when it had finally come, had not been peaceful.

He had been plagued by nightmares throughout the small hours that were still now vivid in his mind. Dreams about Scarlett and the thousand fates that might have befallen her, as well as fantasies of revenge on Rosemary that had caused him to wake in a cold sweat and sent shivers down his spine when he thought of them. They had hunted him relentlessly through the night, and eventually he had given up any hope of rest and risen early so as to be ready to leave as soon as was possible.

He glanced over at himself in the wash stand mirror and grimaced at the newly shaven face looking back at him. He closed his eyes and sighed. Despite his usual impeccable grooming, even in the pale glow of the lamplight, he looked as bone tired as he felt. The restless night, as well as those countless others that had preceded it during the last fortnight and months since she had left, were taking their toll.

There was nothing he could do about it now.

--

Rhett made his way downstairs shortly after seven, to find breakfast already laid out and waiting for him. Bart had not yet surfaced, but he was obviously aware of how impatient Rhett would be to leave and had ordered it to be prepared earlier than usual. Rhett was grateful for this consideration, as he sat down at the long mahogany dining table and forced himself to plate up and swallow at least a few bites from the extravagant spread on offer before him. He had no appetite for food, but he knew he would be doing himself no favours by not keeping his strength up and his tired body and mind nourished. He would have happily forgone the meal in favour of getting his journey started without delay, but it was not yet light out. It would defeat his purpose to leave early only to find himself lost in the dark and adding unnecessary minutes or miles to his journey.

All the same, Rhett was keen to get underway to Ballyhara as soon as possible.

He was to ride over on one of Morland's prize stallions, a giant of a bay named Perseus. Depending on how hard he pushed the animal, and barring any wrong turns, he estimated he could be there within about half an hour. It was no time at all and yet it seemed like an eternity.

He had chosen to make the journey alone, and had been promised straightforward instruction as to how get there. Would she be at the end of it? Scarlett and the baby? God, he hoped so. He prayed for it, prayed for their safe deliverance to him, prayed as he had not done since her fall and miscarriage when he had feared for her life. He just hoped that someone was listening.

The harsh truth was Scarlett might not be there at all. In fact she could be anywhere, and he would be back to square one, no closer to finding her than he had been six months earlier. For all he knew she could have returned to America following her confinement.

No, he doubted that. Unless she knew for certain he had read her letter, she would still be in Ireland, hiding and under the impression that he was in Charleston, happily married to Anne. And somehow, knowing her way of thinking and understanding her fears, he didn't think she would have sent it herself.

--

Rhett made his way out of the large stone mansion at first light, accompanied by the baronet, just as the stable boy was bringing the horse around. The morning, when it dawned was cold and grey. The gentle rain had stopped and an eerie mist now covered the vast grounds. It gave the place an unearthly quality in the early morning light. He hoped the sun would be strong enough to burn it off, but he wouldn't bet on it. At least he wouldn't be drenched by the time he got to Ballyhara. Thank heavens for small mercies.

"I hope you find what you are looking for," said Bart extending a hand. "I'll see you back here at the house whenever you are ready."

Rhett took his proffered hand and shook it. "So do I." He meant it with all his heart. "And thank you again for your help and hospitality on such short notice and under these unfortunate circumstances. I apologise once more for having imposed myself on you." He pulled on his gloves, climbed the mounting block and swung his leg over the horse.

"Nonsense. Anything for a friend of Sally's. She really is a peach that girl." Rhett had to smile at the man's genuine enthusiasm for his friend. "Besides, while I love Ireland and my stables, it can get a little lonely here at times rattling around in this great big house all by myself. I enjoyed having some company last night. Danny," he addressed the stable boy, "take Mr Butler here to the end of the drive and point him in the direction of Ballyhara. It's quicker to go through the fields than following the road. Good luck."

"Thank you," said Rhett, tipping his hat in salute as the stable hand led him down the long drive towards the front gate. Bart watched them go then turned and retreated back into the warmth of the house.

--

"You from America sir?" asked the young man as he led Rhett and his horse down the gravel driveway.

"I am, yes."

"Are you going to Ballyhara to see the O'Hara then?" He stroked the horse's nose as he spoke.

"Who?" Rhett was suddenly alert at the sound of the name and he looked down at the youth with a keen gaze. Could it be her?

"The O'Hara, sir. The American lady who owns Ballyhara town." He paused as if he were reconsidering speaking to a man who was his employer's guest. "Not that it's any of my business or anything, I just thought since you are both from America that she's who you had come to see. We don't see that many folks from over there around these parts."

"Who is this O'Hara." He was watching the boy like a hawk. "Is her name Scarlett O'Hara?"

"Don't rightly know what her name is, sir. People there just call her the O'Hara. That's the title they give to the head of that family. Hasn't been a woman in that position for over two hundred years. She bought back the land that was stolen by the English about six months ago. Rebuilt a lot of the town herself, was up on ladders painting houses and such, from what I heard." Rhett raised his eyebrows at the mental image.

"She's given the local people work on her land. The place has become right prosperous in the last few months, considering it was virtually a ghost town before she came along and restored it. She's made quite an impression, she has. ' Course having a pretty face and pocketfuls of cash makes all the difference, don't it." The stable boy gave him a meaningful wink.

Could it be Scarlett? Had she used his pay-off money to purchase a town? He certainly wouldn't put it past her. Could she have stamped her mark on the place that quickly? He didn't doubt that it was possible.

"Do you know her, or at least of her?"

"Don't know her personally, sir, but me cousin lives around those parts. Mrs O'Hara's her landlady."

"So she's alive. Mrs O'Hara, I mean," he clarified.

"Alive, sir? Far's I know, she is." Relief flooded through Rhett. The young man looked a little bemused by the question and shrugged his shoulders noncommittally, before understanding dawned on his features and he smiled. "Oh, you're asking 'cause of how she had that baby recently."

"What do you know of that." The lad gave him a strange look. Rhett dismounted in an attempt to look less imposing, and resisted the urge to grab the young man by his jacket and shake him. He stood easily a head taller but he knew that intimidation tactics would not necessarily secure him the information he sought.

"Tell me, did the baby survive the birth? I must know." Please god, he'd lost two children already, he couldn't lose another.

"Well, that's quite a tale, from what I heard."

"Tell me." Rhett demanded.

"Well, the story goes that the O'Hara started labouring on All Hallow's Eve night, during the most almighty storm you ever did see. The river broke its banks for the first time in years, caused quite a bit of damage too. They were clearing up for days over near Trim." Rhett tried to remain patient and let the boy speak.

"Anyhow, they couldn't get a doctor 'cause of the river being over the road, so they had a midwife attend to her instead. But there was some sort of problem, I don't know what, but there was blood everywhere, and the midwife couldn't do nothing." Were the complications a result of the miscarriage?

"So then the blacksmith was brought in." A look of horror was slowly creeping across Rhett's face. while phantom fingers traced an icy path down his spine causing the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. "He doctors animals see, so he knew something of what to do, but he refused. Said he wouldn't do that kind of injury to a woman. Cut her open I mean."

He had imagined all sorts of terrible things Scarlett could have gone through since he had first read her letter, and his worst fears were now being brought to vivid life in front of him. He could only hope the picture being painted for him was not a true reflection of the events. How she could have survived such an horrific ordeal, he did not know.

"Anyway, the birth wasn't natural. And when the smithy was too chicken to do what was necessary himself, the _cailleach_-" he paused off Rhett's look and clarified. "She's the wise old woman who lives in the woods a few miles off. People go to her for love potions and such. Some even say she's a witch." He shrugged.

"Anyhow, she come in out of the wild night and sliced the O'Hara open with a carving knife!" Rhett's blood ran cold at the young man's words. "Had the baby right there on the kitchen table, she did." He demonstrated his point with an imaginary blade and a flick of the wrist that caused Rhett to cringe. His face was a blank, not even his eyes betraying the emotions roiling within him. He prayed the boy was embroidering his story for dramatic effect. He certainly seemed to relish the telling of it, and the blood-thirstier, the better.

Guilt and anger surged through him at the thought of what Scarlett must have gone through. She'd been at the mercy of some backwoods butcher when she should have had the best medical care God and money could provide back in America. She had given birth on a kitchen table instead of in a comfortable bed surrounded by people who loved and could have taken care of her.

"Delivered her a little baby boy," the lad continued.

A boy. He had a son.

Or perhaps he hadn't survived. "Did the baby survive?"

"Well, I was just getting around to that." Rhett had to resist the urge to shake the information loose from him. "As the story goes, the baby was born dead,"

Dead. Oh dear God no. His heart stopped momentarily as the icy hand clutched at it painfully.

"but they say that before the wise woman appeared, the O'Hara saw a banshee. Harbingers of death they are, they foretell the death of a family member. And she flew out into the night to claim the soul of the old one, the O'Hara's grandmother, for the dead boy. She was died that same night." That at least Rhett knew to be true.

"Some say the child sucked the life out of the old grandmother and took her soul for it's own. Others tell it that the _cailleach_ stole the O'Hara's boy, and left a changeling child, a baby girl, behind." He picked up a long piece of grass and chewed on it.

Rhett groaned inwardly. Superstition and rumour and no doubt at least third hand to boot. What could he believe of this fanciful tale? He didn't want to get his hopes up too high only to have them dashed once more. He'd had enough shocks to his system in the last couple of weeks to last him the rest of his life. However he didn't doubt that it was at least partly true.

"Then the baby is a girl?" The boy shrugged his shoulders.

"Dunno sir, they're just stories after all. You shouldn't believe everything you hear around here. Especially things that are told to you in the pub by someone who's had a few too many and is a bit the worse for wear because of it. That's where I heard part of the story, from the one of the patrons in Kennedy's. Apparently the blacksmith went in there the next day, soon as the doors opened to drink himself brave. Told anyone who would listen that he'd seen the whole thing. And been scared half to death by it too." He laughed.

Clearly, thought Rhett to himself. "Do you know if the baby is alive?"

"Can't say for certain, but I don't see why not. If it hadn't survived, there wouldn't be all these rumours surrounding its birth, would there. Me sister Colleen says she saw Mrs O'Hara out and about in Trim for the first time a few weeks ago, so she's recovered from the birth, whatever happened." Rhett breathed a sigh of relief, but he wouldn't relax completely until he saw he standing in front of her. Until he could once again pull her into his embrace and never let her go. If she didn't want it, he'd convince her otherwise. He could be very persuasive when properly motivated.

"Thank you very much for the information. Tell me where I need to go."

"Through that field there sir, straight across, and the next one as well. After that you'll reach the road to Ballyhara. You'll want to go to the right when you join up with the road. Then just follow it all the way into the town. There'll be someone around who can point you in the direction of the Big House. That's where she lives."

The Big House. Typical Scarlett, he thought. She never did anything by halves.

The stable boy gave Rhett a leg up back onto his horse. Why hadn't he thought of it last night? If you ever want to know anything, all you had to do was ask the servants. Rhett shoved his hand deep in his pocket and retrieved a few coins. He bent down and thrust the money into the boy's hand in thanks, then pulled on the left rein, dug his heels into the sides of his mount and headed off out of the gates at a healthy gallop.

He no longer wanted to postpone the inevitable now that he knew at least part of what awaited him. She was alive, he was sure of it now. Would she accept him? He hoped so. She'd been hurt by him, yes, and he was certain she'd be angry and want to make him pay for divorcing her, but she loved him. She'd made that plain in her letter. It may have been written in a moment of vulnerability, but he wouldn't allow her to take back what she had said.

Was the baby alive? Please god, let it be. And if weren't, if they had lost it, well they could comfort each other. Not like when Bonnie had died, or when Scarlett had fallen and suffered the miscarriage. They had been so cruel to one another then, so wrapped up in their own pain and guilt, that neither had been able or willing to take support from the other. If necessary, he would be there for her, just as he hoped she would be there for him. He wouldn't allow her to push him away. Not any more. The time for that was past.

It seemed inherent in their nature's to want to fight with one another, but he wouldn't allow fiery temperaments and foolish, stubborn pride get in the way. No more fear of rejection or miscommunications. He was determined that he would not make the same mistakes again. He had been given a second chance and he did not intend to waste it. Nothing would stand in his way. Not this time.

Rhett Butler always got what he wanted and what he wanted was Scarlett.

TBC

* * *

**A/N. Thanks to ARipley for her plot line. I hope you could hear Irish in your heads when you read that. I had difficulty hearing it while I was writing it, but I didn't want to turn him into an OTT 'top of the morning' caricature. Thanks for reading. J.**

--

PS. Has anyone here read the GWTW unauthorised sequel _The Winds Of Tara_? It's currently only available in Australia (it infringes US publishing laws or something), which must be why I hadn't heard about it. Glad to spread the word if you hadn't either. :) Anyway, yay me, I bought it online a couple of days ago. P&P cost more than the book, ouch!, but I don't care! Every girl deserves a treat now and then. PM me if you've read it, I'm interested to know what you thought.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N Thanks to everyone who's reviewed and everyone who's reading. Hope you enjoy.**

She was alive and only a few miles from him. They both were. His heart swelled at the thought of seeing the woman he loved again after nearly a year apart. Scarlett, and their new baby. Please let her be there, he thought to himself as he rode through the misty Irish countryside. Let this agony finally be over. He reined in his horse to a more sensible pace. If he killed himself jumping a fence he would not be laughing at the irony.

What sort of reception he could expect from her on his arrival Rhett could only guess. He doubted she knew he had received her letter. Surely she wouldn't have sent it to him if she believed he was married to Anne, if she were convinced he thought her such a bad mother that he would come and take the child from her. He had accused her of being a bad parent on more than one occasion, told her a cat was a better mother than she. He winced at the thought. From the tone of her letter to him, he knew that things would be different this time around. She loved this baby and had wanted it, which was more than she could say for any of their other children, save perhaps the one she had miscarried on the stairs.

He slowed his horse to walking when he entered the town of Ballyhara. Lights burned in the windows of the newly white-washed homes and shops that lined the wide main street. Rhett quickly dismounted when he saw a woman exit one of the small stores, removed his hat and went over to ask the way to the Big House. Once pointed in the right direction, he quickly climbed back onto the large animal and headed off towards the place Scarlett called her home.

Now, after weeks of worrying and imagining the worst, she would soon be in front of him and he had no idea what he would say to her.

Hello darling, I've come to fetch you home? Somehow he doubted that would go down well.

Rhett wanted nothing more than to pull her into his embrace and kiss her and never let her go. But there was also that long-harboured fear that she would once more reject him that still niggled at the back of his mind. What if she had changed her mind in the past few weeks? What if the thoughts of a dying woman were not the same as those of that same woman no longer facing death? People confessed all manner of things on their deathbeds, and in his experience it was usually the truth. But that didn't mean you wouldn't retract it later if you found yourself recovered.

No, he reprimanded himself, that wasn't possible. He must stop these ridiculous thoughts from intruding on his mind. She loved him. He'd been certain of it in Charleston when he read her letter, and he was certain of it now. That depth of emotion didn't just go away overnight.

She loved him.

--

Rhett rounded a corner on the country lane and a large gray stone building came into view. This must be the Ballyhara Big House, the property she had purchased for herself with his ill-gotten gains. Her pay-off for leaving Charleston when the season was over and never interfering in his life again. At least she had put the money to good use, he mused. Her taste in architecture had certainly improved, although it wasn't as if she had actually built the place. Had she designed it herself, he was quite sure it wouldn't have been nearly as elegant a structure as it was.

His heart thumped loudly in his chest as he entered her land through large iron gates, and he knew it was not the result of the ride over. He cantered up the wide driveway to the front of the house and swinging his leg over, jumped down from his horse. He tossed the reins to a young man who had appeared from the side of the building.

"Is your mistress at home? I should very much like to see her." The lad pointed him towards the imposing front door, and led the horse away without word.

Rhett turned and, taking a deep breath to calm his nerves, walked lightly up the wide front steps and took hold of the doorknocker. He tapped it three times and waited.

When he received no response he repeated the action. Perhaps nobody was at home after all. He turned and walked back down the steps, intending to try around the side of the house, when he heard the door open.

"Can I help you sir?" came a distinctly familiar southern voice from behind him. His heart somersaulted in his chest.

"I certainly hope you can," he replied and turning around he removed his hat with a smile. There she was, standing before him, alive and looking remarkably well despite the fact that she was dressed in black. Her cheeks were slighly flushed, her figure perhaps a little fuller than the last time he had seen her. She was beautiful.

"Oh dear God, Rhett!" Scarlett gasped, visibly paling as she realised who it was that stood in front of her. "You can't be here," she whispered, then promptly retreated back into the house, slamming the door in his face. He could hear the key turn in the lock.

How could he have expected anything else?

--

"Scarlett?" She heard him call through the door.

No, no, no! Oh, God, she groaned, her back firmly pressed against the heavy oak as if she were trying to barricade it against his entry.

She felt sick, and her knees gave out as she slowly slid down the door until she found herself sitting on the ground. She had to remind herself to breathe, had to will her brain to work. How could he be here? How the devil could he have found her? She'd been so careful to cover her tracks, and yet there he was, standing large as life on her front porch.

He knows about the baby, he's come to take her from me. He found out somehow, Rhett Butler always knows everything, she thought in terror, before strengthening anger flowed through her. She wouldn't let him. She'd do whatever was necessary. He was a dangerous man to tangle with, but so was a mother protecting her child. Oh, I'll kill him before I let him take her from me!

Suddenly a horrifying thought occurred to her. Could he have read the letter? He must have. It hadn't crossed her mind since shortly after Cat was born. She had been so preoccupied with the baby, but she knew Mrs Fitzpatrick had put it away for her in the bureau. The same bureau she had sent all the other correspondence for safe-keeping that she had written during her month-long convalescence in bed. There had been a couple of vaguely written newsletters that told of nothing in particular due to her fear of discovery, as well as Christmas cards for her family and few remaining friends. Could Steven have inadvertantly taken the letter with him when he departed for America last month and sent it off once he'd arrived in Savannah? She had asked that her mail be posted there so that she would remain untraceable.

Scarlett scrambled up from the floor, her head swimming and her heart thundering loudly in her ears, and ran into the sitting room. She opened the desk and desperately rifled through the muddle of papers. Oh lord, please let it be here, she prayed, but she could not find what she sought. Why was everything in such a mess anyhow? Damn Mrs Fitz! How could a housekeeper be so disorderly? She looked back over her shoulder and let out a groan as again she heard his knock at the door.

Calm down and think rationally, she instructed herself as she leant heavily on the desk.

Maybe he didn't know. Maybe it was simply a coincidence. He was in Ireland on some sort of business and had heard she was living there. He had come by to say hello, perhaps offer an olive branch or just see how she was getting on.

But it was almost Christmas, a voice reminded her. Surely he wouldn't be doing business at this time of year. Unless he had his mousy little wife in tow. Anger surged through her at that thought. She took a calming breath, trying to stop her mind from racing. What in heaven's name was she going to do? She couldn't just lock him out and hope he'd eventually take the hint and leave. She would have to let him in. It would seem ridiculous of her if she didn't. Suspicious.

Or perhaps she could get away with just showing him the grounds. The stables maybe, those were certainly impressive. Besides there was virtually nothing worth seeing in the house as yet. Hardly any of it was decorated, let alone liveable. She could have Mrs Fitz stay with Cat, offer him a cup of tea and then send him on his way, none the wiser.

She snuck over to the window, pulled back the curtain slightly and peered out at him standing there. God, he was handsome. Why did he have to be so handsome? He turned his head towards where there had been movement inside the house and she jumped backwards hoping he hadn't seen her spying. Of course he couldn't really see in, but she didn't want him to know she had been watching him. How ridiculous to be caught peeping at your visitor from behind the drapes. Pull yourself together Scarlett, she commanded.

Oh how she wished so that she could tell him about the baby, he'd be as proud of his beautiful little girl as she was. But she couldn't, not yet. Not if he didn't know. When Cat was older, certainly, but not yet.

--

Scarlett's mind was still reeling, jumping from one impossibility to the next, when Mrs Fitzpatrick put her head around the corner, jolting her back to reality. "Did I hear someone at the door Mrs O?" she asked.

"Mrs Fitz," Scarlett whispered, motioning urgently for her to come closer even as she crossed the room towards the housekeeper. "Go upstairs and stay with Cat. Don't ask why, just do it, please. She's sleeping now, but try to keep her quiet if she wakes up. And don't come down for anything. I don't want to see your face again until I come up and find you, understand?"

"Why? Whatever's the matter?"

"Please, just promise me you'll do it. There's someone here I don't want to know about Cat. I'll explain it to you later, just go," she begged, turning the older woman around and shoving her bodily towards the stairs. Yes, she'd explain it when Rhett was gone and she had thought up a convincing fiction. As much as she liked and trusted Rosaleen Fitzpatrick, Scarlett wasn't about to tell her her life story in all its colourful detail.

"All right," the housekeeper acquiesced and made her way up the broad staircase.

"Thank you," called Scarlett softly after her. At least there'd be someone to help her hide the body if she had to kill him.

When Mrs Fitz was out of sight, she turned towards the front door and tried to steel herself for what was to come. Tears were pricking the backs of her eyes, but she couldn't let herself fall apart now. Too much was at stake. She had to face him.

"Scarlett," Rhett called again from the other side of the door, and she knew she had to do something. She grabbed her wrap from the coat-rack by the door and flung it around her shoulders. She took another breath to steady her nerves, smoothed her hair, and plastered a smile on her face that she hoped looked more natural than it felt. She turned the key in the lock and slowly pulled back the heavy wood.

--

"Answering your own door, my dear? Didn't I give you enough money to afford servants?" he asked, leaning casually against the column by the front door, then silently cursed himself for his flippancy. Ten months apart and that was the first thing out of his mouth to her? Fool! Why did they always have to play games with one another? He just hoped he hadn't put her back up too much with his careless remark.

"Rhett, I-" she stammered, willing her brain to function. "Well I was just so astonished to see you here. You caught me by surprise is all. You're the last person I expected to find on my doorstep. What on earth are you doing in Ireland anyhow?" She smiled brightly at him, hoping he wouldn't see through her false bravado.

He had to fight the urge to pull her into his arms and never let go. She obviously had no idea he might appear in her town. She must not know he had read her letter. And if she hadn't send it to him, it must have been posted without her knowledge. Perhaps she had even forgotten that she had written it. Rhett would have to tell her he had read it. That he wasn't married. That he loved her.

"I, er-" Did he jump right in, blurt it out straight away or did he lead up to it? He thought it best to test the waters a little first. It was always advisable to adopt a cautious approach when dealing with Scarlett. She may have changed her mind after all, and once again he began to fear that her answers would not be the ones he wanted to hear. He had to know if she really did want him.

"I received a letter from an old friend informing me you were in the country," he told her evasively, "although it took me a while to locate exactly where."

An old friend, what old friend? Scarlett's mind worked furiously and drew a blank. She knew no-one here besides her relatives and the people in her town. Did this friend know about Cat, or that she had been pregnant? She hadn't exactly taken the trouble to hide that fact as she had done when she'd been expecting her other babies in America. Oh, how could she have been so careless, parading around with her belly out for all to see! But surely if Rhett knew he would say something. So far he had given her no indication that he did know. Maybe Cat was safe.

"Look, can we go inside and talk? I'll explain everything."

"No!" she said a little too vehemently, and stepping over the threshold, closed the door firmly behind her. "I mean, it's quiet pleasant out here in the fresh air, don't you think? Let's sit outside." She planted herself on the steps and looked up at him expectantly, hoping he would follow her lead.

"It raining." he pointed out.

"Oh fiddle-dee-dee, Rhett Butler. This isn't rain, not really. Besides," she countered, "you're already wet." She didn't want him to think she was being unreasonable, but she couldn't let him enter the house.

"So I am," he agreed, looking down at his jacket, damp with the early morning mist. He knew why she was resisting letting him in, so he didn't force the issue. He didn't want to scare her anymore than he suspected she already was. He took a seat beside her on the cold stone.

"How did you get here anyhow?" Scarlett asked, looking around for some means of transport. She needed to keep the conversation in neutral territory to remain in control of things. She could feel the heat radiating from his body as he sat next to her. It was distracting.

"I rode over from a neighbouring estate. I am staying with an acquaintance." What did 'neighbouring' mean, she wondered. Would they know about her baby? She couldn't very well just ask.

"Where's your horse?"

"I gave it to the stable boy."

Scarlett frowned. "I don't have a stable boy, or any servants really."

"Perhaps I didn't give you enough money after all," he teased, then again cursed his stupid comment.

"Seriously Rhett, it's only me and my housekeeper here. I have a cook also but she has the week off to spend Christmas with her family. This place is barely fit for living in."

He studied her wary face for a moment, as if deciding whether she were joking, then shrugged and laughed. "Then I fear I may owe someone a great deal of money." He would worry about the horse later.

Scarlett managed a smile as well. A year ago she would have felt a rush of indignation that this man could have such a cavalier attitude about money, but then her feelings on the subject had changed recently as well. Her life now had a more important goal.

"Well shouldn't you go and look for it?" she prodded. Anything to get him off her front porch. "We could take a walk around the property. I'll show you the stables if you like. They are gothic revival at it's finest. Or so I've been told."

She stood up, dusted the back of her skirt off, then grabbed onto his shoulder for support, black spots dancing in front of her eyes.

"Scarlett?" He put his hands on her waist to steady her, then rose to his feet.

"I'm fine."

"No you are not." The concern was clear in his eyes as he looked down into her pale face.

"I'm just a little dizzy is all. I stood up too quickly, it'll pass. I just need to put my head down for a few seconds."

"You never got dizzy before, other than when you were expecting."

"You think I'm…" she asked incredulously and laughed. If he only knew, she thought. "Oh, Rhett leave it alone, I'm fine." She wobbled again and without warning he swung her off her feet and into his arms.

"Put me down!" she cried indignantly, trying to push away from him.

"No."

"Rhett Butler, put me down this instant, I am perfectly capable of walking." She couldn't let him take her into the house. What if the baby started crying? She'd have to tell him it was the housekeeper's, or rather her grandchild. Mrs Fitz was too old to be having babies.

"No." He repeated as he bent slightly to reach and turn the front door knob, then pushed it open with his foot. "Where do I go?"

"Right back out of my house! I never said you could come inside." She struggled in his arms.

"Scarlett." From his tone and the strength of his hold on her she knew there was no point in arguing.

"That way." She pointed towards the small sitting room off the kitchen, as far away from Cat as she could direct him. He laid her down on the small sofa, and crouched down beside her looking at her with concern. She glowered back at him.

"Tell me the truth, are you quite well?"

"Like I told you already, Rhett, I'm perfectly fine. Stop fussing so." When she struggled to sit up and he put his large hands on her shoulders and pushed her back down again. She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him through narrowed eyes. "And why the sudden interest in my welfare anyhow? Would it have killed you to have shown a little concern for me ten months ago?" She regretted that taunt the moment it left her lips. They were in dangerous waters now.

"I'm just a little anaemic is all," she continued before he could answer her. "The doctor says I need to eat more liver." She made a face and shrugged. "I told him I'd rather see stars for the rest of my life."

"Your health is important." He looked down into her face with a concern she found touching and a slight blush crept into her cheeks.

"I know you had a baby Scarlett," he said quietly. "I came to Ireland because I read your letter."

Her eyes flew to his face, wide with horror at his statement. If she hadn't been about to faint before, she surely would now.

He knew.

Cat was as good as gone.

--

**Thanks for reading. J.**

**Note: French physician Gabriel Andral is credited with introducing the term anemia around 1829. The first thoroughly studied form was pernicious anemia. English physician Thomas Addison gave the first complete description of the disease in 1849. Scarlett's just suffering the kind that results from severe bloodloss, which is easily treatable with an iron-rich diet, or nowadays, supplements, although as far back as the 1600's iron salts were used as treatment. She is not dying or anything! Apparently liver as a dietary treatment was not widely used until the 1920's though, so I may have taken a little liberty with that.**


	9. Chapter 9

"You read my letter?" Scarlett whispered. Her entire body felt paralysed by fear.

"I did." he answered quietly, looking into her frightened eyes until she could no longer meet his gaze and had to look away. "I assume you hadn't meant for me to see it."

"Lord no! I never wanted you to find out that way unless, well, only if I died. I didn't want you to- " What could she say to him? That she didn't want him to know about their child? Of course she did, but only on her terms, at some predetermined, much later date.

"You didn't want me to come here and take the baby away from you, like I did Bonnie," he finished for her.

"Oh Rhett, I-" She faltered under his gaze and turned away.

Is that what he was going to do now? Take Cat from her? He couldn't, she would kill him before she'd let him take her baby! Scarlett closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. If ever there were a time to panic, it was now, but she had to think rationally. Besides the fact that this man was her child's father, she also happened to be in love with him. They would have to behave like mature adults for once in their lives and come to some sort of arrangement.

The gears ground slowly in her sluggish mind. She would have to go back to America. No, she thought indignantly, why shouldn't he come to Ireland. Oh but if he wanted Cat for months at a time, Scarlett would have to be close. She couldn't be away from her for such long periods. She'd have to move nearer to Charleston. Scarlett balked at the thought. She loathed the place and the people would shun her. This was all his fault!

No, she had to admit, that wasn't true. As much as Scarlett wanted to lay all the blame on him for her situation, they had created this mess together. If she had gone back as soon as she realised she was expecting he wouldn't have married that whey-faced little ninny Anne and they could have been husband and wife again before anyone even knew they'd divorced. Would they have been happy? She didn't know, but perhaps not. After all the misery they had caused one another, maybe they were better off apart, regardless of how much it hurt. When she was able to put her own feelings on the matter aside she could admit that she wanted Rhett to find happiness, even if it meant he was with someone else.

Anne. He must love her or why else would he have married her? It baffled her. How could he have been interested in her when she was barely more than a child? To Scarlett's annoyance, she immediately thought of her parents, of Frank Kennedy and her sister. Yet somehow they didn't count. Ellen Robillard had been quite the beauty in her youth, so it was only natural that she would have turned Pa's head. And Frank was too much of an old woman to get himself a better belle than the fifteen-year-old Suellen.

But Rhett, Rhett was different. What possible interest could a man with his worldly experience have in that innocent girl? She had no physical charms to recommend her to him as Scarlett had. She may look like Melanie Wilkes, but Rhett had never shown any interest in Melly in that way. What could possibly have induced him to marry her? Or maybe that youth and innocence _was_ the attraction. It wasn't as if Anne could have trapped him into marriage with a pregnancy, not even Rhett would have gone that far. But for all Scarlett knew she might be carrying his baby right now. The thought of Anne bearing Rhett's children made her sick. And the thought of that woman raising _her_ child …

Rhett, who had been closely watching the play of emotions on her face saw the shutters close behind her eyes.

"I won't let you take that child out of this house, Rhett." she whispered, "I'll fight you tooth and nail if I have to, don't think that I won't."

"Scarlett, calm down, please and let me explain." He peeled off his damp coat and draped it over the back of the chair nearest the fire, then took a seat next to her.

"Don't you tell me what to do, Rhett, you don't have that right any more," she warned, pushing herself up on the sofa, and then swinging her feet onto the floor. "And who said you could make yourself comfortable? You're not welcome here, so I suggest you go find that horse of yours and leave." She waved her arm in the direction of the door. "I don't need you Rhett Butler. I was doing just fine on my own up until now. If you want to see your child, have your lawyers contact mine. I won't be unreasonable."

"I'm not here to take the baby away from you, Scarlett," he tried to reassure her.

"You're not." She eyed him suspiciously.

"No. Now for once in your life just be quiet and listen to me. Please."

"Fine," she scowled at him, folding her arms defensively across her chest. Her panic was subsiding slightly as her mind processed his words, but her eyes still betrayed her wariness. "Why are you here?"

"I came here for you," he said simply.

"Oh really!" she cried, jumping up off the sofa. "So what, Rhett, you just expect me to give up the life I've made for myself here and come back to Charleston with you?" Oh he was insufferable! "I suppose you've already bought the house. Nice little cottage for the ex-wife and her bastard baby to live in, while you and Anne have proper respectable Charleston children. Or were you planning on asking me to be your mistress again? Well, you can just forget that mister. If you think I'm going to go back and live in that ghastly town in disgrace, like some kind of fallen woman, you have another thing coming! People respect me here, I have family and friends who love me and don't sit in judgment. I won't give that up for you."

"Scarlett, please sit down and let me explain. Truly, you look very pale." He took hold of her upper arms and attempted to lead her back over to the couch.

"Get your hands off me dammit!" She twisted out of his grasp and backed away from him. "Fair skin is called fashion Rhett, I am not going to faint! I wasn't going to faint the first time! You just used that as an excuse to get into my house. Why couldn't you just come out and say what you knew instead of feigning concern for my well-being?" He held up his hands in surrender, hoping she would calm down.

"Speaking of Anne," she sneered, her voice dripping with venom, "did you bring her with you on your little mission to Ireland?"

"No. I don't think it would have been appropriate for me to travel with a woman who isn't my wife."

"What do you mean she isn't your wife?" she asked, her fear and anger abating somewhat as surprise and confusion took their place. He couldn't, wouldn't have divorced her. It was not possible. "Did she die?"

"No," he smiled, bemused, at her question. "She's quite well as far as I know."

Oh, he couldn't have! Scarlett was aghast. "You divorced her as well? Oh, Rhett, how could you! That poor girl! Lord knows, I hate her, but still!" Of all the things Rhett had done in his life, this had to be one of the worst.

"Scarlett, stop. I never married her." He should have known she might jump to some such conclusion, not knowing what else to think.

"What? But-" She opened her mouth to speak, then shut it again. She was at a complete loss for words. 'But' what? She allowed Rhett to take her by the arm and lead her back to the sofa where he sat down next to her.

As her mind began to function once more, Scarlett frowned at him, an accusatory expression on her face. "But you wrote to me. You told me you had married her." Rhett sighed and shut his eyes for a moment.

"That letter was forged Scarlett," he said bitterly, "by my darling little sister. I knew nothing about it until you mentioned in yours that I'd written you. I couldn't understand it and then Rosemary came to me and confessed her deception. She forged a letter to you from me, telling you I had married Anne."

"I don't believe it!" she cried. "That little snake!"

"Quite," he concurred, with a twisty half-smile. "Do you know I compromised Anne? Did Rosemary write that in her letter?" Scarlett shook her head. "We took her orphans out for a picnic one afternoon and one of them wandered off. We didn't find him until after nightfall. That's what started the whole mess." He paused. "There was talk of marriage for a while. By everyone other than me. "

"I knew you would never have married a girl like that!" she crowed, triumph momentarily winning out over fear. "If you hadn't done it thirty years ago, why would you bother now?"

"That's exactly what I said."

"And yet I believed the words in front of me. I believed you wanted to make peace with Charleston, that you wanted a chance at contentment, if not happiness, in marriage. That you had fallen in love with her. I'm such a fool, the words was so convincing I never even thought to check."

"Well, why should you, when you got it straight from the horse's mouth?"

She sat in silence, shaking her head as she absorbed this piece of information. Had she been on better terms with her aunts she might have received information from them and this whole mess would have been avoided. They could have contradicted it immediately.

"I still have it you know," she said looking up at him.

"What?"

"That letter from Rosemary. I use to read it when I was sad or lonely, when I was missing you. It made me so angry to read those words when you said you loved her that I'd stop feeling any of those things."

"A very useful tool. May I see it?"

"Later. Carry on with what you were saying." She was suddenly eager to hear what his intentions were. Was there hope for them after all?

"I'd confided in Rosemary some of the circumstances of our relationship after she overheard us quarrelling one evening when you were in Charleston. Subsequently, when she overheard Mama and I talking about my having made a mistake in divorcing you, about wanting you back," he didn't miss the light that flickered in her eyes at his words, "she decided to take it upon herself to prevent that from happening. She thought she was protecting me from you by letting you think you couldn't get me back after I'd divorced you. She wanted me to marry Anne, but you know me well enough I would hope, to believe that I never entertained the thought. How could I marry someone I didn't love, Scarlett, after having spent seven years in a miserable marriage myself?"

"I just assumed you were off your head at the time," she said dismissively.

"Well, yes." He smiled. "I don't deny that I was out of my mind after you left, but not that far out. I do care for Anne, and I think she probably loved me, but she's better off where she is." Scarlett raised her eyebrows in query. "She's Mrs Edward Cooper now," Rhett supplied.

"But besides making the decision not to marry her for my own selfish reasons, I couldn't allow her to suffer as I had in a relationship with a partner who was in love with someone else. She may have been young and naive, but she isn't stupid. She would have realised eventually that she would never have my heart and it would have broken her to know that. I couldn't knowingly do that to her."

"What I did to you." Scarlett said quietly, looking away.

He turned her face back towards him. "I did it to myself as well. I knew you didn't love me when we married, Scarlett. You told me so yourself." The intensity of his dark gaze made her uncomfortable. She shifted away from him slightly on the sofa and cleared her throat.

"So you are not married?" She thought it worthwhile to check.

He smiled at her and gently took her hand in his. "No."

"Oh." Scarlett stared at him, her mouth slightly open, not certain what else to say. What did it mean for her and Cat? He had said he was here for her, but just because Rhett wasn't married didn't mean he that he loved her. She narrowed her eyes at him. "You divorced me."

"Yes, I did," he said quietly.

A sudden and resounding slap stung his face and took him by surprise. He picked up her hand and placed a kiss on the palm.

"You're not going to apologise for that, are you?" She pulled her hand away.

"Scarlett, it's something that at the time I felt I had no choice but to do."

"Why Rhett? I still don't understand how you could do that after-" She trailed off and he knew she was thinking of their union on that rain-swept shore. "I waited for you for two months in Savannah and you didn't come. I was so sure that you would come for me. I thought after you'd cooled down a bit, once you'd had time to reconsider, you would change your mind. I couldn't believe you meant the things you wrote in that awful note you left me following the accident. After those words you said to me on the beach- I knew you loved me then, despite your taking it back afterwards. I was so convinced of it and then you didn't come. Why Rhett? Why didn't you come?"

A stray tear spilled down her cheek and she swiped at it angrily. She shouldn't be crying now. Rhett reached into his jacket pocket, produced a handkerchief and handed it over. She sniffled a little, and dabbed her eyes dry.

"Scarlett, I didn't know where you were. Not until your aunts came back to Charleston after your grandfather's birthday."

"But why ever not?" she asked crossly. "I left a note for your mother."

"Rosemary burned your note." Her mouth fell open slightly in surprise, before she snapped it shut.

"I'm going to have a few choice words to say to that girl the next time I see her."

"You may want to throw one of those slaps in as well," Rhett suggested. She rewarded him with a watery smile and mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like 'sorry', although he could not be sure.

"Scarlett, when you left without word I assumed you were punishing me for treating you the way I had. I convinced myself that you were not in love with me, despite all your claims to the contrary, and that I was once again the fool in the tragedy that had been our life together. I got the divorce to prove to you, but mostly to myself, that I didn't care about your leaving. My mother, who was very supportive of your cause by the way, tried to convince me not to go through with it, not until I at least knew where you were. But I thought I knew why you'd disappeared, that you were just playing your same old games with me, and I was determined to call your bluff. I was so hell bent on getting the better of you for once, that I wouldn't listen to Mama, or anyone else for that matter. I am truly sorry for causing you such heartache, Scarlett, but can you at least understand why I felt I had to do it?"

"I suppose. But it doesn't make it any easier. You hurt me so badly Rhett." He was holding her hand again and this time she didn't try to pull away.

"I know," he said quietly. "If it's any consolation I began to regret it almost before the ink was dry."

"It's not," she huffed. "Everyone knows I'm a divorced woman. Do you honestly think I'm just going to be welcomed back into Charleston society? Or Atlanta? Suellen's probably told everyone who would listen all about her sister's failed marriage!"

"Only if she knows about it."

"Please, Rhett, it's probably half way to California by now. You know what those old peahens are like where gossip's concerned. Even if they have nothing to corroborate the story, it'll be out there just the same."

"There's the rumour, yes, but I've been quite careful about not to air our dirty laundry. I'm not saying nobody knows, Scarlett. It would be naive to think that, but the general consensus is undecided. No-one's actually been brave enough to ask me and when I didn't marry Anne, well people started to think perhaps they had been misinformed. Besides, as you know, there is no divorce in South Carolina."

"I'm going to pretend you didn't sound just a little bit smug when you said that, Rhett Butler." She glared at him, but some of the intensity was gone. He ignored her comment and continued.

"I went to Dunmore Landing after the whole Anne debacle had resolved itself, to try and clear my head, make some decisions. But by the time I was ready to admit my mistake and fetch you home, you were gone from Savannah. After your grandfather told me you'd moved in with the O'Hara's, I tried over there. Spoke to a priest, who I now believe to be your cousin."

"Colum?" She looked surprised.

"The very same. I recognised his name when I read your letter. He said he'd tell you I was looking for you if he ever saw you again."

"He never mentioned it to me."

"That doesn't surprise me. He was very evasive about your whereabouts, but I'm assuming he knew exactly where you were, and was simply protecting you because he thought I was married."

She nodded in agreement.

"He suggested perhaps I should look for you in France. He was trying to throw me off the scent, I suppose."

"Why would I go to France?" she asked, confused.

"To see Paris maybe. Or meet your Robillard relations?"

She raised her eyebrows. "Rhett, I can't stand most of my mother's family and I speak almost no French."

"That's exactly what I thought. What's your point?"

She shrugged and smiled at him.

"Of course I'd also tried Atlanta. Your Uncle Henry didn't know anything, and when no-one at Tara knew where you were, France started to seem like a viable option. You did an excellent job of covering your tracks, my pet, and after continually running into dead ends I- Scarlett?"

She had stopped listening, as something he had said that had become lost in the turmoil that was her mind slowly rose back to the surface.

"You said you couldn't marry Anne because you're in love with someone else," she choked out in a whisper.

"Did I?" He quirked an eyebrow.

"You did." She stared up at him wide-eyed, almost afraid to ask. "It is me?"

"Is what you?" he teased, feigning confusion, then sobered.

"Scarlett, there has never been anyone else." He looked intently into her green eyes until an attractive blush started to creep it's way into her face. He smiled tenderly at her and brushed a stray tear from her cheek with his thumb. "Yes, my darling," he said softly, "it's you."

TBC

**Thanks for reading. J.**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N Apologies for the delay. This chapter just wasn't working for me until I cut the end off. Now I quite like the result. I hope you do too.**

**--**

Rhett loved her. The words she had longed to hear from him for over two years now had finally been spoken. Scarlett fought to prevent a sob from escaping her lips and failed.

"My darling, shhh," he soothed. He wiped at the tears that were streaming down her cheeks, and pulled her to him, stroking her back. She allowed it for a few moments, enjoying the heat of his body against hers, the scent of him that was so distinctly Rhett. Oh, but she had missed the safety and comfort she had always found in his embrace. How she could have failed to recognise her feelings for him for so long she did not know. Scarlett felt his arms tighten around her as he placed a kiss in her hair.

No, she thought, not yet. Things were still far from settled between them. He said he loved her, but what made him think he could just waltz back into her life after all this time and she would welcome him with open arms. She pushed herself away from him.

"We've made such a mess of things, haven't we." She blew her nose and wiped her eyes. "And as much as I would like to, you know we can't blame all of this on Rosemary. I cried for you for months, Rhett, how do I know you're not going to break my heart again?

He sighed. "You don't, Scarlett, any more than I know that you won't break mine. You're just going to have to trust me not to. Do you think we can do that? Trust one another with our hearts."

"It won't be easy, but I'd like to try."

"Good, because I really want to make this work. You know we'll have arguments, but you have to remember that I love you and I'm not doing it to hurt you." She nodded silently. "I've always thought we could be so happy together, and now that everything is out in the open I think that's a real possibility. Maybe it was necessary that we spent some time apart for a while. I wish it hadn't been, what with the baby and all-" He grimaced slightly. God, how he regretted having missed her pregnancy. "But it's done and all we can do now is move forward."

"I want that too, Rhett," she said shyly.

"Good." He tilted her chin up and smiled at her. "I've really missed you, my pet. In fact I've been quite positively miserable without you."

"I should hope so." Her expression softened as she reached up to stroke his cheek and he covered her hand with his own. "You look tired."

"I don't doubt it. Ten months is a long time to go without a decent night's sleep. No doubt I have countless grey hairs as proof of my despair."

"Where?" she put her fingers to his temples and stroked his soft black hair looking for evidence of his distress but found none. "I can't see any."

"Maybe you're not looking hard enough. And after the shock I got last night, I wouldn't have been surprised if it had turned white overnight."

"Why? What happened last night?"

"I was told that you had died," he said quietly, with a depth of emotion evident in his voice that she had rarely heard before.

"What?" She frowned, a look of confusion crossing her face. "Who said I had died?" He took her hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze, as if perhaps reassuring himself that she were indeed real, before relating his story.

"I got in touch with an acquaintance, a friend of Sally Brewton's, after your letter came. The man whose horse I appear to have misplaced. He's an English baronet who has an estate over near Dunsany. Once I'd read your letter I telegrammed him that I was coming over and asked him to instigate a search for me. I only gave him your name, and when they found no Butler, they tried O'Hara."

Realisation dawned on Scarlett's face. "He found my grandmother," she said quietly.

"Yes."

"You didn't suffer too long did you?"

"No. When I took the time to read the notes from the detective properly, I realised it couldn't be you."

"Did you cry when you thought I was dead?" She had a look on her face that Rhett could only interpret as hopeful, and he had to smile at the audacity of her question.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you. You'd get some perverse pleasure out of knowing just how distraught I was."

"I believe I would," she said lightly, "but you're not going to tell me, are you."

"No, I am not."

He didn't need to. Scarlett felt a smug warm glow at the knowledge that her supposed demise had caused him such distress.

"So, what happens now, Rhett? Where do we go from here?"

"Do we have to decide that right now? I can think of a couple of other things I'd much rather be doing than talking." He edged a little closer on the sofa, and snaked an arm around her shoulders.

"Wait, Rhett." She pushed herself away from him and folded her hands in her lap, ready to talk business. "I think we should get a few things straight first."

"All right. Such as?"

"Well, assuming I let you back into my life, are you planning to remarry me?"

"If I asked you would you say yes?" She fought a smile. So that's how he was going to play it. Contrary man! Why couldn't he just come out with flowery declarations of love and devotion, like anyone else? He was Rhett Butler, that was why. Well two could play at that game.

"Well, I don't know, I'd have to think about it." His breath hitched and his heart skipped a beat at her words. "Someone once told me it was bad form to marry for love. Besides, I wouldn't want anything to happen to you. I have a bit of a reputation as a black widow. You'd have to be a brave man to marry a woman who's buried three husbands.

He frowned slightly. "I know about the first two, but what happened to the third?"

"Oh, he died of some sort of age-related illness, poor thing. I forget what, but he wasn't a spring chicken any more you must understand." Rhett cleared his throat noisily. "It was all terribly sad." She let out a small sob and dabbed at her eyes with his handkerchief.

"Well, we could always live in sin if you'd prefer," he said casually as he reached into his jacket pocket and retrieved a cheroot.

"No thank you. And no smoking in my house, please." He raised his eyebrows, then put the cigar away. "As it happens," she continued, "I know a priest."

"I haven't even asked you and already you've booked the church?" She shrugged. "I suppose you'll be wanting a new ring to go with this fresh start?"

"Of course." He took her left hand in his and ran his thumb over her unadorned ring finger.

"Do you still have the old one or is it resting at the bottom of the Atlantic?"

"You are joking! I love that ring, and I don't care how vulgar you say it is! Besides it must be worth a fortune. I may have had a broken heart, but there was nothing wrong with my head. I wasn't going to get rid of perfectly good piece of jewellery, no matter how much I hated you at the time." He winced slightly at her words. "It's up in my room. I had to stop wearing it a few months ago when my fingers started to swell." Rhett let go of her hand at her reference to what he had missed and she knew she had unintentionally touched a nerve.

"One good thing," Scarlett continued, trying to keep the mood light, "if you should ask me to marry you I won't have to go around in black any more."

"Ah, yes, no more widow's weeds. I've always hated seeing you in black."

"Well, I couldn't very well have a baby without a husband," she huffed, "so I killed you off rather than admit that you'd divorced me. Everyone's been very nice to me because of it." She paused for a moment looking thoughtful. "We'll have to come up with some sort of explanation for your miraculous return. I think Colum told everyone you were ill and that was why I needed to get back to America so quickly. Then when I heard you'd remarried and decided to stay, it was the natural progression of things to let you die. Perhaps we can say you were unconscious for a while and when you woke up you had no memory, or that you temporarily lost your mind. Something that makes you look bad, not me. I command a great deal of respect around here you know," she said haughtily. "People call me 'The O'Hara'."

"So I heard."

She eyed him suspiciously. "You seem to have heard a great deal considering you've only been in the country one day."

"I know people," he said dismissively, then continued slowly, his face becoming more serious as he spoke."I don't know how much of it is true, Scarlett, but I was told a pretty gruesome story this morning. That the baby was born under the knife? I didn't know whether to believe it or not." His mind had swum with images of her lying bound to a table being gutted like a fish since he had heard the tale.

"It's true," she said simply.

"Christ, Scarlett, it's a miracle you aren't dead!" He drew her into an embrace he could not withhold at the certain knowledge of how close he had come to losing her and she did not fight him. When he released her, he continued recounting the tale he had heard from Bart Morland's stable boy.

"And then some witch came out of the night and delivered the baby? When he told me that I half thought he was making the whole thing up."

"Well I don't know about her being a witch, but she probably did a better job than any doctor could. Oh Rhett, I wish you had been there. I needed you so."

"I'm sorry I wasn't there for you, Scarlett. I'll never forgive myself for letting you go through something like that alone."

"Don't, Rhett," she said at the expression of regret on his face. "Like you said, it couldn't be helped. And I wasn't alone, I had Colum and Mrs Fitzpatrick with me. And maybe it's a good thing you weren't here. Had you been, you would probably have had heart failure, and I had enough to worry about as it was."

"You must have been terrified." He knew she was trying to play down the drama of that night, but he didn't want her to dismiss it for anything less than it had been.

"I was afraid, Rhett, but more for the baby than myself. I just couldn't bare the thought of losing another child." Scarlett swallowed hard, thinking about Bonnie and the baby they had lost on the stairs, and she knew he was thinking the same thing. "I lost a lot of blood even before Grainne performed the operation, so I wasn't fully aware of what was happening towards the end. But yes, I was scared I might die. That's why I felt I had to write you. I couldn't leave things the way they were. I wanted you to know how I felt even if you didn't return those feelings." She put her fingers to his lips to silence him as he started to speak. He took her hand and held it to his lips, pressing a kiss her fingertips. Scarlett instinctively pulled away from the intimate gesture.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to do that. It's just that you've had time to think about all this. I'm still trying to recover from the shock of finding you standing on my doorstep. So much has happened between us Rhett, that I'm having difficulty believing all this is real. I hear the words and I don't doubt the sincerity of them, but I can't just ignore all those feelings that I've had to deal with over this last year. Trying to reconcile myself with the fact that you weren't mine anymore - not that you ever really were," she added, "but trying, and I think learning, to accept that I had lost you, only to find it was all a big mistake and that maybe we can be happy after all. I'm guess I'm just a little skittish. My head understands, but maybe my heart isn't ready to risk itself again. Did you understand any of that?"

"Every word. You've changed, my dear. I think you have finally grown into yourself." His compliment was rewarded with a look of surprise and genuine happiness. "We'll go as slowly as you want, Scarlett. I think it's important that we learn from our past mistakes so we can avoid repeating them. At least we both know how the other one feels. I'll do my best to communicate my feelings with you. I won't hide my emotions or run away from you any more. I'm tired of all that and it never got me anywhere. It won't always be easy, but I want to try and I think you want that too. You do want to be with me, don't you?" He looked suddenly so insecure and boyish, so unlike Rhett who was always so sure of himself, she had to smile.

"I do Rhett. I love you, so very much." He didn't doubt the truth of her words.

"Good." He let out a breath he had been holding and grinned at her, and when she smiled back, he took her face in his hands and leaned in to kiss her.

She pulled back and put her fingers to his lips to stop him.

"Wait." Something was still niggling in her mind.

"What now?"

"You are here for me, aren't you?"

He looked confused. "Did I not make that clear?"

"Yes, but I know how much babies mean to you, Rhett."

"Scarlett, I want you," he laid heavy emphasis on the last word, knowing she needed reassurance, "baby or no baby. You have to believe I'd have come straight away if I had known where to find you. As I said before," he put his hand on his heart, "I have been truly miserable without you this past year."

"Serves you right!" she wriggled happily at his words, then softened. "I'm sorry, Rhett, I shouldn't have said that. If we are going to make this work we have to forgive each other our past mistakes and that means no throwing them back in each other's faces. It isn't going to be easy, given our tempers, but we have to try. I don't want to be constantly bickering. About your divorcing me or my stupid obsession with Ashley." He grimaced slightly at the mention of that gentleman's name, and she put her hand on his arm. "That has to stay in the past Rhett, if this is going to work. I'm not saying forget about it, we can talk about those things in a civil manner, but you can't go throwing that in my face every time we have an argument about something. Just like I can't bring up Belle or the divorce or whatever else you've done that's hurt me."

He nodded in agreement.

"But you do really and truly want to be with me, Rhett?" He groaned, but she ignored it and ploughed on. "Because, oh, I can't believe I'm actually saying this, but I don't want you to feel you have to be with me because of a child. God knows I love you, but I don't want to make your life miserable again. If you aren't really in love with me then we can make some sort of arrangement. I'm not moving back to Charleston or anything, but, I don't know," he was smiling that infuriating smile at her as she rambled on and she knew for without doubt that her worries were for nothing, "maybe you could rent a cottage in the village or something. Or come and live in my stables. They are very fine, I've been told," she said smugly, smiling now as well, "even if they are haunted. So at least you'll have some company." He raised an eyebrow at that. "I might even let you come into the house on the coldest nights. I'm quite a reasonable landlord I think you'll find."

"How very thoughtful of you, my pet," he said, "allowing a lowly tenant to sleep on your kitchen floor on a cold winter's night."

"Only the handsome one's," she coquetted, fluttering her lashes at him. "If you're lucky, I might even lend you a blanket."

"You are all kindness and charity, ma'am." he said bowing dramatically. "But I can think of something else I'd like to keep me warm." His dark eyes twinkled and her heart flipped over.

"What," she asked innocently, "a hot brick?

"That's not exactly what I had in mind," he said, playing along.

"Some brandy then." The smiled faded from her face as he looked at her and was suddenly serious.

"I don't want your brandy either," he said quietly, their playful banter at an end..

"What do you want?" she asked feeling a blush creep into her cheeks as she knew his answer.

He pulled her close to him and black eyes met green. "You, Scarlett" he said with such sincerity as she had never known in him that it brought a lump to her throat. "I want you."

"I think that can be arranged."

This time when he leaned in to kiss her she made no move to stop him.

TBC

--

**Thanks for reading. J. **


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N. Oh, woe, I've been so busy, work has been horrid, and this chapter hates me! This is the 'bit' I cut off the end of the previous chapter - it just kept getting longer and longer. Thanks for the pokes, I hope it's worth the wait. Sorry to those of you expecting something else - my last a/n had to be deleted after a couple of days because it turned into a big fat lie.**

--

She could feel the smile against her lips even before Rhett pulled back and she saw his grin.

The kiss had been gentle at first, tentative even. His lips, soft and warm, were barely a whisper as they brushed over hers. Was it possible that he was as nervous as she, afraid now even though he had kissed her a hundred times before?

But it was different this time, how could it not be. This was the first kiss they had shared that was purely about love, about honesty. It held no jealousy or anger. There was no struggle for control or supremacy, no holding back for fear of rejection or ridicule. It was a kiss of devotion and tenderness and longing. It held the promise of things to come and forgiveness for what had gone before.

Then he had taken her face in his hands and their lips met again, stronger and more purposeful this time. He was flesh and blood pressed against her, and Scarlett delighted in his physical strength and masculinity. His body was hard once more, lean and muscled as it had been in the early days, before unhappiness in marriage and the death of a child had led him down a self-destructive path to misery and ruination.

She clung to his shoulders, ran her hands down his arms, her fingers through his hair as she held him to her. His lips on hers evoked memories of the previous occasions they had shared moments like this, and the images swirled in her mind. February, a frantic coupling on a rain soaked beach when their child had been conceived. That awful night of Ashley's birthday party when he had carried her struggling up the stairs, only for her to surrender willingly to him and the frightening, all-consuming passion his mouth and hands had brought forth in her. She had thrilled at being at his mercy, had revelled in the power he held over her, before it had all ended in tears.

She'd been a fool for years not to recognise what was in front of her, what had been hers for the taking.

--

He'd been a fool to fight against this for as long as he had. She'd said she loved him, and he had known it to be true, yet he had resisted. He could spend an eternity in her arms, in her bed, and it would never be enough to make up for the time they had lost. She was warmth and feminine softness beneath him. Her lips pliant and willing, tentatively inviting him to explore her mouth with his tongue, then returning his motions with a vigour he had known only twice from her. That night following her meeting with Ashley at the mills when he'd used her so brutally. He'd been crazed with rage, mad with jealously, so much so he feared he would have taken her even if she hadn't consented. The thought repulsed him.

And more recently, that afternoon on the beach. Driven by his desperate need to affirm that they had survived, that she was not lost to him, he had proved it in the most primal way.

The little moans of pleasure that emanated from her now made him need to pull away before all semblance of control was gone. He was all but undone and yet he could not stop. He was creating those feelings in her and she was letting him, willing him on. It was a heady rush to know that after so many years of struggling against one another and their feelings it was finally him, and him alone, that she wanted. Desire coursed through his veins at that knowledge.

The smell of her skin and her hair, the feel of her body beneath his, the way she tasted, were an intoxicating, overwhelming assault on his senses and yet he could not get enough. He had been without her for too long. It would take him a thousand nights to drink his fill, and even then he would need more.

If only they hadn't wasted so much time apart.

"No more poison in your blood?" she whispered in his ear as he buried his face in her hair. "No more sickness of your soul?"

Damn her memory. They had so much to make up for. She couldn't forget the terrible things he had said to her any more than he could forget her words to him.

"Do you have to remember everything I say?" He nuzzled her ear before sucking the lobe into his mouth, an action that sent shivers down her spine and made her eyes roll back in her head. She felt him smile against her as she could not withhold a groan. "You're both of those things, Scarlett, and so many more." She was his captor, his tormentor, his saviour. "I've just learned to embrace my need for them." He pulled back and looked down at her, his dark eyes burning with emotion and intensity. "For you."

And then his mouth was on hers again and there was nothing but Scarlett and the rhythmic pound of blood that drummed in his ears.

--

But she was pushing him away, his brain registered, her small hands struggling against his unyielding chest, her body suddenly rigid beneath his. He blinked at her with confused, passion-glazed eyes, before moving away and allowing her to sit up. Had he gone too far, pushed her too fast? Did she not want this after all?

"What is it?" Scarlett's eyes were alert.

"I thought I heard a knock."

"Scarlett darling," came a voice from the hall, and she jumped away from Rhett as if she were a young girl about to be caught unchaperoned with her first beau. "You should have told me you were buying yourself a thoroughbred for Christmas. Now I only have a day to find you a different present."

It sounded as if he were facing the other way, perhaps walking towards the stairs.

"God's nightgown! That's Colum." she whispered. "He's supposed to be taking us to lunch at the Adamstown Hotel, I completely forgot." She stood up on shaky legs and ran her hands over her body, trying to smooth her rumpled clothes. She did not miss the lascivious leer Rhett rewarded her with. "Keep your mind out of the gutter for the moment, please," she castigated him, "and give me a hand with these buttons. I can't seem to get my fingers to work." He removed her hands to her sides and positioned her in front of him, before he deftly began to refasten the buttons of the high-necked black shirtwaist. Scarlett gave him an accusing look. "However did you manage to get these undone in the first place, Rhett Butler, without my noticing?"

"It's one of my many talents, my dear," he winked at her, his black eyes dancing with mischief.

"Impressive, I grant you, though where you perfected such skills I shuddered to think. Perhaps you'll be good enough to demonstrate the others to me sometime." Their eyes met and Scarlett's face flushed at the thought of what he might do to her later, at the knowledge that she had invited him to do it.

She was in danger of dissolving into giggles, but the threat of embarrassment at being caught half-clothed by her cousin kept her together. "Lord, I must look a fright!"

"I never saw anything more beautiful." He twisted a stray lock of her dishevelled hair around his finger, then pulled her closer and placed a kiss on the side her neck that raised goose bumps all over her body. Scarlett blushed with pleasure at his words.

"Stop it, Rhett." She tried to sound commanding and keep the tremor out of her voice, but failed miserably. She pushed him away. "You're not exactly decent yourself," she commented, looking pointedly at his lap and he grinned back. Again she heard her cousin call her name.

"I better head him off and explain before he tries to do you an injury." She straightened her skirts as best she could, and felt a smack on her bottom as she scrambled over his out-stretched legs and ran for the door.

--

"Colum, how lovely to see you!" She hoped her flushed face didn't betray what had just recently transpired in the next room, as she turned her cheek to accept a kiss.

"Tis a fine day to be leaving your front door wide open. You'll have used up half the peat in your bog on the heating of this place before winter's out." He took her hand in his. "It's bit early yet, but I know what you ladies are like. Without somebody to chivvy you along we won't be leaving before it's dark."

"Oh, Colum, you do talk nonsense. When have you ever known me to be tardy where food is concerned?" She smiled and squeezed his hand.

"All right, you found me out. I just wanted the opportunity to spend a little time with my beautiful godbaby while you and Rosaleen are getting ready." A look of horror came over his face as his eyes went passed her and Scarlett looked back over her shoulder to see Rhett standing in the doorway of the sitting room.

He looked as immaculate as ever, not a single hair out of place, and Scarlett wondered for the umpteenth time since she had known him, exactly how it was that he managed to accomplish it. At least from his appearance Colum wouldn't suspect that they had been behaving like a couple of teenagers on the sofa only minutes earlier.

"It's all right, Colum," she put a reassuring hand on his arm, realising he probably thought he had just unwittingly divulged her secret. "He knows." The priest's eyes betrayed nothing.

"Father O'Hara." Rhett approached the pair and placed his hand at the small of her back.

"Mr Butler. This is certainly a surprise, though it would appear not an unwelcome one." He looked questioningly at Scarlett for confirmation of what he had said, and on receiving a nod, extended a hand for Rhett to shake.

From the expression on the priest's face, Rhett had the distinct feeling that his presence was going to be a hindrance to the conversation to come. As an awkward silence descended on the three, he thought it perhaps best to remove himself from the equation for the time being. "You mentioned something about a horse, Father? It's on loan and I should very much like to be able to return it."

"Ah, yes. Magnificent beast it is too. He's grazing down round the south side of the house, near the stables." Colum pointed him in the appropriate direction.

"Thank you." He looked down at Scarlett, then over at Colum. "Well, I'll just go and tie up the animal then. If you'll excuse me." Rhett bowed slightly, went to retrieve his coat from beside the fire, then disappeared out of the front door, pulling it shut behind him.

Colum watched him go then rounded on his cousin. "Scarlett, what the devil is that man doing in your house? Did you ask him to come? Did you finally come to your good senses and decide to tell him about the baby?"

"No, he just appeared out of the blue on my doorstep not more than an hour ago."

"But you've told him about Katie?" he asked, ushering her by the arm into the warm sitting room.

"I didn't have to. He already knew."

"What? But how can that be?" Colum asked, his brows coming together in confusion.

"I wrote him a letter just before Cat was born when I started to fear I wouldn't survive. I never intended for him to see it unless I died, but Steven took it with him by mistake last month." Colum digested this piece of information.

"What about his wife? It's too late to go back now, but have you made peace with the fact that he's going to want to have the baby some of the time, and that she'll be raising her as well?"

"He's not married to Anne, Colum. He never was. He's wanted me all this time, he just didn't know where to find me." Before Colum could respond Mrs Fitzpatrick entered the room.

"Has he left?" she whispered, as she hurried over to where the other two stood in front of the fire. "I saw him go outside."

"He's tying up his horse. And I thought I told you not to come downstairs until I said it was all right," Scarlett groused.

"I thought it would be safe while he was out of the house," Mrs Fitz answered, unperturbed. "He's her father isn't, he?" Scarlett stared at her with wide eyes.

"What? How did you-? Colum!" she shot an accusing glance at her cousin.

"I never said a word." He held up his hands defensively.

"So it's true. And you knew, Colum?" asked Rosaleen surprised. "You knew and you never told me?"

"I made a promise to Katie Scarlett and I wasn't going to break it." Mrs Fitz pursed her lips and set her hands on her hips. She was displeased that she had not been let in on the secret, but more because Colum was her good friend than due to the fact that, as a priest, he had lied to protect someone. He wilted somewhat under her stern gaze, and satisfied she turned her attention back to Scarlett.

"It was only a guess, but I'm not blind, Mrs O. I could see it a mile off. You've always said Katie was the spit of her father." She held up a hand to stop Scarlett as she made to interrupt. "And before you go accusing me of anything, I wasn't eavesdropping. I saw him out of the window just after he arrived."

"Yes, he's Cat's father," Scarlett admitted.

"But you said your husband was dead."

"I lied, all right." Mrs Fitz stared at her open-mouthed. "I lied because he divorced me, and I was ashamed to admit it. Are you happy now?" Rosaleen ignored her outburst.

"Why is he here? He hasn't come to take Katie away, has he?" She was suddenly as afraid for Scarlett as she felt for herself at the thought of losing the baby.

"No, he hasn't. Do you remember that letter I wrote when I was in labour?" The housekeeper nodded. "It went to America by mistake and Rhett read it. I thought he'd married someone else, that's why I stayed in Ireland when I was expecting. But that turned out to be a lie and- oh, nevermind. The point is he's here for both of us. We're going to be a family again."

"Are you sure, aroon, that he hasn't just come because of Katie?" Colum's concern for her welfare was clear in his face.

"Yes Colum, I'm sure. You don't need to worry about that."

The other two remained silent, looking sceptical.

"Oh, don't you look at me like that, Colum." Scarlett crossed her arms over her chest, her expression defiant. "This is for real and we have no intention of messing it up this time."

"Scarlett, I just don't want you to get your hopes up too high. I don't know if I trust the man."

"How can you distrust him when you don't even know him?" She relented slightly. "All right, maybe I haven't painted the prettiest picture of Rhett Butler, but that's only because I was hurt and angry. He really would have been the best of husbands if I'd ever bothered to give him half a chance. We love each other, Colum, and that's all that matters. There's no reason for this to end badly. I won't let it."

"All right, Scarlett darling. I just don't want you to get in over your head too quickly only to find tomorrow or a week down the line that things aren't all moonlight and roses like you want them to be."

"I'm not naïve, Colum. I know this is going to take work on both our parts, but we're prepared to do it. And now I don't want to hear another word out of you on the subject. If it's a disaster, you may tell me 'I told you so' with impunity. But until such time, I will thank you to keep your mouth shut."

"Scarlett, aroon, I only want what's best for you."

"Rhett is what's best for me!"

"Just be careful. I'm only saying this because I love you. I wouldn't like to see you hurt."

"I know that, Colum, and I adore you for caring like you do, but everything is going to be just fine. You'll see."

"I hope you are right."

"Mrs Fitz." Scarlett turned her attention to the housekeeper before he could say any more. "How would you like a few days off to spend with your family? Colum could drop you off after lunch."

"That would be wonderful, Mrs O. But are you sure you'll be able to manage all on your own?"

"I ran a plantation during the War, Mrs Fitz. I'm sure we'll be fine." She appreciated the older woman's concern and the protectiveness she felt for Scarlett and the baby. "It's Christmas, you should be with your loved ones. Besides, I think it'll be good for us to spend some time alone together. Rhett needs time to get to know Cat. He hasn't even seen her yet."

"Well," she was suddenly all aflutter with excitement, "I'd better go and get a few things together and then we can be off." She paused, "If you're sure-"

"Stop fussing, both of you. I'll be fine." Mrs Fitz nodded and hurried out of the door to pack.

"I take it you won't be joining us for lunch then?" asked Colum quietly.

"Oh Colum, would you mind awfully if I didn't?"

"I will be completely and utterly devastated by the loss." He clutched at his chest and Scarlett smiled at his dramatics.

"Do you think you could do me a favour and stop off somewhere on your way to Adamstown? Rhett stayed near Dunsany last night, at a place called Morland Hall."

"I know the place. It isn't too far out of our way."

"Would you mind asking them to send his bags over this afternoon? Please?"

"Scarlett-"

"Don't start, Colum," she warned, "I know what I'm doing."

"I hope so, aroon. If this all works out I will be truly happy for you."

"Thank you." She kissed him on the cheek. "How about a drink while you wait?"

--

"Is everything all right?" asked Rhett as he entered the house to find Scarlett standing in the hallway. "I fear my presence has created quite a stir this morning."

"Yes, everything's fine." Scarlett motioned for him to come closer and put her arm around his waist, drawing him near to her. "My housekeeper is going away for a few days. I've managed to convince her and Colum I'll be safe all alone with you." He bent down to kiss her hair and wrapped his arms tightly around her. "Now I'm beginning to have second thoughts!" She leaned back slightly and looked up at him. "Where've you been anyhow?"

"Chasing an evasive horse around your back lawn."

"Now there's something I should like to have seen," she laughed.

"I'm rather glad you didn't. Fortunately he didn't put up too much of a fight once I caught him and is now safely, if not happily ensconced in your stables. And very fine they are too," he added with a smile.

Mrs Fitzpatrick and Colum came down the stairs and deposited her luggage in the hall. Once Scarlett had made the introductions, the two men took the bags down the front steps and loaded them onto the small carriage.

"Handsome beggar, isn't he," commented the housekeeper.

"Why, Mrs Fitz!"

"Pity I'm too old for him, or you might have a fight on your hands." She nudged Scarlett in the ribs and she laughed in return.

"Come along, Rosaleen," groaned Colum as he took her by the arm and ushered her out the front door.

"Oh, just a minute, Mrs Fitz, I have a present for you under the tree." She ran off to the sitting room to retrieve the gift.

"Mr Butler," Colum addressed Rhett who was standing in the doorway, "take good care of our Katie Scarlett. She seems to think you will and I wouldn't like to see her proved wrong."

"I'll do my very best to make her happy."

"Make sure that you do, or you'll have more than just myself to answer to." He put on his hat went outside to the waiting trap.

Scarlett ran back into the hall and thrust a parcel into the housekeeper's hand. "Merry Christmas, Mrs Fitz."

"Thank you," she leaned down and kissed Scarlett on the cheek, "and a happy Christmas to both of you."

"I'll be back later to check on you, Scarlett darling," called Colum.

"For heaven's sake, Colum, that won't be necessary."

"I'll be back just the same. Someone has to deliver the man's bags." He gave Rosaleen a hand up into the carriage, then climbed up himself and took the reins in his hands. "Til this afternoon then." He tipped his hat. "Walk on, Bessie."

Rhett came up behind her and put his arms around Scarlett's waist. She turned in his embrace and looked up at him. "He thinks I'm putting the cart before the horse where you're concerned."

"Yes, I rather got that impression as well." He brushed the backs of his fingers over the apple of her cheek.

"Why?" She pulled back slightly, looking at him curiously. "What did he say to you?"

"Oh, something along the lines of if I did you any harm he'd hunt me down and kill me."

"Not really?"

"I think it was implied." He pulled her closer to him than was decent and whispered in her ear. "I gave him my word as a gentleman that you would be safe with me."

"Fat lot of good that'll do me!" She laughed, then pushed away from him slightly as a soft cry carried down from upstairs. Rhett had heard it too and his eyes were suddenly alert. She smiled up at him. "Are you ready?"

"I can hardly wait." Scarlett took his hand in hers and pulled him towards the stairs.

--

**Thanks for reading. J.**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N I asked them nicely, but the words just didn't want to come! Sorry for making you wait. I hope you enjoy it.**

* * *

"Nervous?" asked Scarlett, taking Rhett's hand in hers as they stopped in the hall outside her bedroom door. She gave it a reassuring squeeze when he nodded. "Don't be."

"I can't help it. This is a big deal." He inhaled deeply to calm his suddenly racing heart and smoothed a hand down the front of his shirt.

"It's not as if you're about to make a lasting impression, Rhett. Trust me, you look fine." He chuckled softly and shook his head as Scarlett reached to open the door.

"Wait," he said, putting his hand on hers to stop her.

"Why? What's the matter?"

"I don't even know what the baby is." She looked at him confused. "You haven't said."

"Did I not?" She frowned slightly, trying to recall.

"No, all I've heard from everyone since I arrived is 'the baby'. And from that third-hand story I was told this morning it might be a boy or a girl. He didn't really seem to know."

"Well, I know you've always had a preference, but does it matter?"

"Of course not, but I should like to know just the same." Part of him was afraid it would be another girl, thought perhaps it might be easier to distance himself emotionally from a boy. But if he were honest with himself he knew his heart would be lost once more the moment he laid eyes on his child, no matter what it was. "Well, were you right?"

"I'm always right," she replied airily. "About what?"

He smiled. "In your letter you said you had a feeling it would be a girl."

"Well," she said cryptically, "the baby's middle name is Colum..."

"So it's a boy then?"

She smiled coyly. "Would you be disappointed if it were?"

"Scarlett," he groaned.

She smiled up at him, slipping her hand into his and pushed open the door to her bedroom. "Come and see."

--

Scarlett leaned over the crib and lifted the baby gently into her arms.

"There's someone here to see you darling. Say hello to your daddy." The baby's eyes looked past her mother, curious as to the unfamiliar face above her, and into father's eyes.

"She's beautiful, Scarlett," he breathed softly.

"Would you like to hold her?" When he nodded she gestured for him to sit down on the bed and then handed the child over to her father. Scarlett's eyes never left Rhett as she watched the emotions play across his unguarded face as he took in his daughter for the first time, his feelings clear to her for once on his handsome visage.

The fears he harboured about not being able to risk his heart a second time he knew in that very moment were unfounded. How could he not love this perfect little being? Even if he had wanted to protect himself from possible hurt he would have been unable. In that moment he knew that once again he was lost. This tiny baby held his heart in her hands and there wasn't a thing he could do to get it back.

Cat's green eyes watched her father with interest. She wrapped a fist around the finger he offered her, and Rhett bent his head and kissed her tiny hand. As he took in the sight of her, her baby scent, the feel of her velvety soft skin, her feather-light weight in his arms, he was assaulted by the bittersweet memories of another time and place, of a different baby girl they would never see again. It threatened to overwhelm him.

Scarlett, who was watching his reactions, reached into her pocket and handed him back his handkerchief. Rhett carefully supported the baby's head and took the hanky, smiling ruefully at her as he dabbed his shining eyes. She soothed him by rubbing his arm. She had felt all the same things the first time she'd held the baby as well, that deluge of emotion, the rush of unconditional love that was all-consuming.

"What have you named her?"

"I call her Cat because of her green eyes," answered Scarlett.

Rhett repeated the word aloud as if hearing how it sounded from his own lips. "It suits her."

"She was christened Katie Colum O'Hara." Scarlett continued. "Colum's been a lifesaver these past 8 months or so. I don't know what I would have done without him after you divorced me." A look of guilt flashed across Rhett's face as she spoke and his lips tightened. "We'll have to change her last name to Butler, and she'll always be Cat to me, but if you like something else we could change it. After all it should be your decision too."

"No. I like Cat, but maybe we can discuss it later. She looks like you, you know."

"You think so?" She asked surprised, peering more closely at the face she knew so well. "All I can see is you. She's my little pirate baby, a miniature of her father."

"Well," he turned Cat in his arms and studied her critically, "she has Butler colouring I suppose, although her skin isn't sallow like Rosemary's, but those eyes couldn't be anyone's but yours. The long lashes, and her curly hair, that little rosebud mouth. Oh Scarlett, she's perfect." He stroked his hand gently over the baby-soft black downy wisps that covered her head, then ran his forefinger down her cheek. "She looks so like her sister," he said quietly. "Different in some ways but also the same. You can see they were family."

Scarlett put her arm through his and shifted a little closer, a sudden lump coming to her throat and tears to her eyes. The loss of Bonnie was something they had never really spoken about. After all the cruel words and accusations she had thrown at him following their daughter's death, it had become all but impossible. And once the initial hurt had begun to ease a little and she had wanted to apologise, to comfort him and assure him he was not to blame for what had happened, it had been too late. He had closed himself off to her, withdrawn from everyone, when the guilt had taken hold and refused to let go, and she had been unable to appeal to him. And the longer those words had gone unspoken the harder they had become to say.

"I miss her too Rhett, so very much." He made no answer, an iron grip around his throat, his breathing becoming shallower. His eyes never left the baby and he took a deep breath and swallowed hard to maintain control. Scarlett rested her head against his shoulder.

"After Cat was born I came to realise for the first time what it is to love a child, really love one. I loved all my children in my way - as much as I knew how at the time, but until she arrived I never knew what it was supposed to be like. How Melly could have risked her life to have another baby." How I 'd do the same if I could, she added silently to herself. "You were right about what you said, what everybody said, about my being an unnatural mother, Rhett." She put her fingers to his lips. "I know I was still a child myself when I had Wade, and then when the War came-" She trailed off. "But that shouldn't be an excuse. I know the fact that I didn't love their fathers had something to do with it, although there are plenty of woman who don't love their husbands that still love their children. I don't know why I couldn't do it. It just wasn't something that came naturally to me until now.

"Maybe you've just finally grown up." He reached over an tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

"Maybe." She smiled shyly. "She was a little part of you for me to hold onto, all that I had left really. That's why Bonnie was so precious to you, isn't it, because she was a piece of me that loved you when I didn't."

"I'm sorry for all those things I said about your parenting skills, Scarlett. It may have been true, but it was also unkind of me. I should have tried to help rather than criticizing you all the time. I was at fault too," he paused, "if I hadn't overindulged Bonnie the way I did, then maybe-"

"Rhett don't, please."

He turned to face her, suddenly serious. "Scarlett, things have to be different this time. I was wrong to give Bonnie the free rein I did. I'm not saying the outcome wouldn't necessarily have been the same, but I won't make that mistake again. Children need boundaries, discipline. Don't let me be a fool again." She reached out to him and he took her hand.

"Rhett, you only did that because of our relationship. I wouldn't let you love me so you lavished all your love on her instead."

"With disastrous consequences." His expression darkened. "I undermined everything you did, I wouldn't allow you to have a role in her life. It's my fault she died, Scarlett. I killed our child. And the one you lost when you fell down the stairs-" She didn't let him finish.

"If you weren't holding a baby I would slap you for that, Rhett Butler. I never want to hear those words out of your mouth ever again. Don't even think them, do you hear me. It was an accident, they both were. I know I said the most horrible, hurtful things to you after Bonnie died, but I don't blame you for what happened." She turned his head so he was facing her. "Look at me, Rhett. I never really did, you have to believe that because it's the truth. I just wanted to hurt someone worse than I was hurting myself and you were the obvious target. I'm so sorry for everything, I hope you can believe that. I wanted so to be able to comfort you later, to tell you I hadn't meant what I said, to be able to cry in your arms, but after everything that had gone between us- Can I have that back please?"

He handed the hanky back to her. It was damp, she laughed a watery laugh as she wiped her nose. "I'm sure I must have another one around here someplace."

He put his free arm around her shoulders and drew her a little closer, breathing in the scent of her hair as he kissed the top of her head. "Thank you, Scarlett. I needed to hear that. I don't know if I'll ever be able to forgive myself for what happened, but I do appreciate what you've said. It means a great deal to me to know that. I don't want things to go unsaid between us."

"Neither do I. I need someone to talk to about her with sometimes Rhett, I hope we can do that. I want Cat to grow up knowing her big sister, even if she'll never get to meet her. I know it's difficult to talk about Bonnie, but I'd like to be able to remember the good times we had together. Who else could I do that with other than her father? I know it's hard for you Rhett, but I don't want to banish her memory like she'd never been born as most people seem to do. It's not natural to just pretend she didn't exist. I don't want to forget those years we had together, no matter how much it hurts."

"I'd like that too Scarlett."

"I'm glad." She sniffed and smiled up at him, then turned her attention to the baby as she began to fuss. "Are you hungry, precious? She's such a darling little thing, she hardly ever cries. Can you pass her to me Rhett, I think I need to feed her," said Scarlett.

Rhett raised his eyebrows in surprise, as he handed Cat back to her mother. "I'll just wait downstairs, shall I?" He stood up to leave the room.

"No, Rhett, you don't have to leave. I won't mind if you'd like to watch," she said shyly, "just let me get comfortable." Scarlett moved to the rocking chair next to the baby's crib and sat down. She turned away slightly from his gaze and unbuttoned her shirtwaist, exposed her breast and guided the baby to her nipple. Once she had latched on and begun to suckle, Scarlett arranged herself to protect her modesty as best she could and then turned around to let Rhett watch his baby feeding. At her invitation, he moved a little closer on the bed. His eyes on her breast made Scarlett suddenly self-conscious and faint blush crept into her face. She cleared her throat slightly to break the silence that had descended and began to speak.

"Maybe we should talk about where we're going to live. I love the people here, but I've been feeling rather homesick for Southern voices and sunshine. Oh cornbread and grits. And coffee. I have to order it from Dublin." He smiled at her references to food. "I was planning to go home next year and bring Wade and Ella over here to live, but now I'm not so sure anymore. I stayed in Ireland because I felt I had no choice, but I'm so far away from everyone here and the cold and damp wreaks havoc with my hair."

"Let's discuss that later, Scarlett." He too was absorbed in watching her feed his child.

"What? You mean think about it tomorrow? I think I may need to lie down!" He chuckled softly. Scarlett leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes, rocking gently. Rhett marvelled at the look of love and contentment on her face as she did so, so different to what he had known from her before. They sat in silence for several minutes, the only sound breaking the quiet the small sucking noises the baby made.

"Maybe we could bring your mother over for a visit. Do you think she's up for it?" Scrlett asked as she turned away again to rearrange her clothing when she had finished feeding the baby.

"Wild horses wouldn't keep her away." He grinned, then became pensive as a frown crossed his face. "I don't think I want to invite Rosemary though."

"We'll have to see her eventually, Rhett," Scarlett prodded, as she handed Cat back to her father and refastened her buttons.

"I think later rather than sooner is in order, thank you. Things have turned out well, but they just as easily might not have. I'm not interested in forgiving my sister for what she did just yet."

He was silent for a moment, gently rubbing the baby's back.

"Were you ever planning to tell me about her, Scarlett?" he asked in a quiet voice. She had known this question would be asked of her, she had expected it, and yet she still didn't know how to answer him. Dangerous waters were ahead, but she knew she would have to brave them and answer him truthfully.

"Yes, I just don't know when." He looked away. "I'm sorry Rhett, I know this isn't what you want to hear, and I wish I could tell you different, but I'm trying to be honest with you. As long as I thought you were married to Anne and living a proper Charleston life I felt I couldn't tell you. I admit that to begin with I thought only of punishing you for divorcing me. I was so hurt and confused I wanted to hurt you back by keeping the baby from you. But I soon realised that it wasn't only your fault I was in the mess I found myself in. We were both to blame, besides the circumstances beyond of our control. You know I was a bad mother to my other children, Rhett, and I was scared you wouldn't let me prove that I had changed. I was afraid you'd take her and I'd never see her again."

Scarlett saw the muscles tighten in his jaw. He couldn't blame her for feeling as she did, but the knowledge that she would have kept his child from him for who knew how long angered him nonetheless. Thank God that letter had seen the light of day when it did or he may have missed out on years instead of just a few weeks. The relief he had felt at discovering they were both alive had dissipated somewhat and now there was room for righteous indignation and resentment that she should have kept from him the existence of a child he had every right to know to creep back in.

The reality of holding that tiny person in his arms made what she had done, what he might have missed out on, that much more real to him. This was his life she had been playing with, even if he hadn't known it at the time. For her to deprive him of something so significant made him angry. He stood up and lay the now sleeping baby down in her crib.

"I don't know how to feel about that, Scarlett. Damn it." He cursed softly to himself, and ran his fingers through his dark hair. "I can understand it, hell I can even sympathise, but I don't know how to forgive it right now. It makes me angry that you would knowingly keep my baby from me. I know you didn't ask to get pregnant, so maybe I should have assumed that risk when I divorced you, but I still had a right to know. And it's partly my fault you felt you had to hide. I accused you of poor mothering, I kept Bonnie from you, but the fact is you were a poor mother. You showed very little emotional interest in your children, you kept them clothed and fed, put a roof over their heads, but nothing more. And maybe that is all you were capable of a the time, but you never tried very hard to make an effort. The only reason you loved Bonnie more than the other two is because she was such a pretty, charming little girl and a credit to you." He stopped himself at the look on her face. He could see that hearing these harsh realities hurt her, even if she knew them to be true, and that wasn't his intention.

"I was scared Rhett," she pleaded.

"You were selfish," he countered quietly. Tears filled her eyes at his words and he took her hand. "I'm sorry, Scarlett. I know it's not what you want to hear and I don't mean to hurt you, but can't help the way I feel. I need some time alone to think."

He turned and left the room, and she helplessly watched him go as slow tears spilled down her cheeks.

She heard his footsteps on the stairs, then across the hall to the front door. It opened then was pulled shut behind him. She couldn't go after him, there was no appealing to him now. Besides, what could she possibly say? He was right, she had thought only of herself, even if her decision was justified in her mind.

A deathly hush descended on the empty house as Scarlett curled up on the bed and dragged the heavy blankets over her. It had been an emotional morning and she was suddenly exhausted by the disappointment that had followed her earlier elation.

He'd made her feel small and guilty for what she had done.

He would come around she told herself firmly. He had to. They would work through their differences. Of course it wasn't all going to be ironed out in the space of a few hours. She had to exercise a little patience, no matter how difficult she found it. Rhett would be back, he hadn't come all this way just to turn around and leave at the first sign of trouble. But even though he had promised her he wouldn't run away, she still feared he might leave her again. Scarlett tried to fight the tears as she buried her face in the pillow but they fell unheeded.

TBC.

**Thanks for reading. J.**


	13. Chapter 13

Rhett took a last drag on his cigar and tossed the butt to the ground. He watched as the smoke rose from where it lay smouldering on the gravel driveway and dispersed in the chilly December breeze. He was annoyed with himself and his conscience needled him. It hadn't been his intention to hurt Scarlett and yet he knew he was guilty of doing just that.

The truth was that he understood her point of view perfectly. He couldn't see what she had done as a betrayal because circumstances had forced her into it. She had been faced with an almighty obstacle, she had overcome it and she had done so with an efficiency that had stymied all his attempts to find her.

Rhett had been the one to end their marriage without giving her a chance to discover she was pregnant. She said she hadn't known until after she'd left for Ireland by which stage the divorce was a fait accompli.

Their estrangement might have been concealed easily enough since he hadn't remarried, but Scarlett hadn't known Anne was not in the picture. Rosemary had taken care of that. Nor, after the way he had treated her, would she have dreamed that he would want her back. What other choice had she had but to remain where she was?

Even for someone like Scarlett, who flouted society's rules and did as she pleased, the scandal of returning to America pregnant or with a baby and no husband would have been too great. She had no-one to go back to, no friends to turn to for support. She was a pariah in Atlanta, would have been ridiculed and ostracised by everyone there, and had Rhett gotten wind of it, she was afraid that he'd just swoop in, claim the baby and desert her with nothing. He had unknowingly caused a storm in her life that was potentially too violent for even Scarlett to weather without the love and support of the likes of Melanie Wilkes to shelter her.

He knew all these things, could stand in her shoes and empathise, and yet he still felt angry that she wouldn't have told him. It was an impotent kind of anger that he didn't want to feel because he understood her completely, and yet he felt it anyway.

He sighed heavily and leaned his head back against the wall. His sister's face flashed across his mind briefly, highlighting her role in this mess, but he refused to think of Rosemary now. Scarlett had let down her defences in a show of trust and he had ploughed in and trampled everything. He had some damage to repair.

--

When Rhett entered the bedroom he found Scarlett curled up in a ball facing the window on her large bed. Had she been crying? Oh god, he hoped not. The last thing he wanted was to hurt her, but he was unsure if she would see his words as an attack rather than an expression of frustration. He understood her reasons for staying away, he just hoped she would be able to understand his reason for feeling as he did without taking it personally. Somehow he doubted it.

Rhett sat down gingerly behind her on the bed, and when his weight dipping the mattress did not rouse her, he realised she must be asleep. He pulled back the hair from her neck and tucked it behind her ear, exposing more of her face to him. His heart clenched at the sight of the tear stains on her cheeks and the handkerchief clutched in her small hand. She _had_ been crying. He whispered her name but when she did not stir he leaned down and gently brushed his lips over her cheek bone, inhaling the soft scent of her skin and hair. Then he retreated and tucked the blanket a little tighter around her. He wanted to lie down next to her and take her in his arms and keep her safe, tell her he was sorry, never let her go, but he wasn't quiet sure how she would receive him so he decided instead to let her sleep.

He moved over to the cradle, turning his attention back to his new found daughter. The sight of her melted his heart, kindling a warm glow in his breast. She was awake and her large green eyes, so much her mother's eyes he could scarcely believe it, went to his face as it appeared above the crib. Was that a smile? Or at not quite two months was Cat still too young? No, it was definitely a smile and he grinned back at her, leaned down and scooped her up in his arms.

How could Scarlett have borne losing this beautiful little girl anymore than he would be able to stand it now? Her strong instincts to protect those that she valued most was one of the reasons he loved her.

Would he have taken the baby? Rhett didn't know, he certainly hoped not, but he admitted to himself that if circumstances had presented themselves the way she thought them to be, there was a possibility that he might. He looked back over his shoulder at Scarlett's sleeping form. He couldn't blame her, he didn't blame her for what she had done. He would have to choose his words carefully when she woke up.

--

Scarlett stirred and stretched her cramped limbs. For a brief moment all was right with the world until she remembered why she had cried herself to sleep, why her pillow was damp and why her head now ached. She felt insecure. She'd kept Rhett's child from him, forget how good her reasons for it had been. The fact remained that she would have deprived him of years of her life, wouldn't have let him know Cat even existed, until she felt safe in the knowledge that her daughter loved her and her alone, and she was in no danger of losing her to her father.

What would Cat have made of that, she wondered. Would she too have come to resent her mother for her actions, for protecting her own interests above those of anyone else. Rhett was right, she was selfish. It made her want to cry all over again.

Scarlett buried her face in the pillow and tried to maintain control of herself. She felt like drumming her heels and screaming her frustration. She hadn't had a choice, damn it! He had to see that.

She kicked the blankets off, swung her legs down and put her still booted feet on the floor. She shut her eyes tightly as her head protested the move and sighed. She wanted her mother or Mammy, even Colum to hold her and tell her all would be fine, but right now seeing her beloved baby's face would make everything seem alright.

But when she put her face over the side of the crib there was no baby, no wide green eyes searching her face, no tiny dimpled hands reaching up to her.

Scarlett willed herself to stay calm.

He wouldn't have taken her, would he? No, not after the things they had said to each other earlier. He loved her, he wasn't going to run. He'd said he was here for her, baby or what if it had all been some cruel joke? What if he had lied, lulled her into a false sense of security, then taken Cat and she was all alone?

Why had she told Mrs Fitz to take the day off. She was such a fool. Colum's words of warning rang in her head as Scarlett walked briskly down the upstairs hallway, checking each room in turn. If she started running now she might lose all control and go to pieces.

She called his name and got no response. She did it again, a little louder this time, her voice shaking slightly as desperation started to creep in. Still nothing.

She'd trusted him, let her guard down and he'd betrayed her in the worst way.

No, she was being irrational, she told herself firmly. But fear was growing at an alarming rate within her, and try as she might she could not shake it. Oh, why had she bought such a large house, with so many empty rooms?

Tears of fright found their way onto her cheeks as panic started to take hold.

--

Rhett was standing looking at the partly laid kitchen table with the baby in his arms and appeared to be having a serious conversation with her. It would have made her smile had Scarlett had her wits about her.

He turned round to see her in the doorway and smiled. "Oh good, you're awake. We were just discussing the lunch menu. I thought you'd probably be hungry, I know I am." He peered at her a little more closely as she approached, her face terribly pale in the firelight. "Scarlett?"

"Give her to me, Rhett. Give me my baby." She reach out for Cat, her strained voice shaking slightly as she spoke. She needed to feel her child in her arms.

But instead of handing Cat to her mother, he put the baby down in her carrycot, moved quickly over to Scarlett, and lead her by the arm to a chair by the fire.

"Sit," he commanded when she tried to resist him.

"But I want-"

"Later. Scarlett, you are not well." He grabbed a glass and a bottle of brandy off one of the shelves and poured. "Here, drink this." He thrust the glass into her shaking hands and helped her put it to her lips. "You look as if you're about to pass out."

Scarlett took a gulp and spluttered as the liquid burned it's way down her throat, then swiped the back of her hand across her mouth and glared at him. "Will you please stop insisting that I'm about to faint at every turn, Rhett," she bit out, although she had to admit she did feel shaky and strangely light-headed from her panic.

"Alright, then, I don't want you to have hysterics." She scowled at him but he ignored her and crouched down in front of her, looking up into her face with evident concern.

"Tell me what's the matter."

"Nothing." She suddenly felt stupid. He lifted her chin, forcing her to look at him. "I over-reacted. It's silly, really. I just thought that maybe you'd-"

Realisation dawned on his face and he dropped his gaze. "Absconded," he finished for her.

She nodded dumbly and Rhett retrieved the glass from her, placing it on the small side table next to her chair. He took her hands gently in his, rubbing his thumbs over the backs of them. "I'm sorry Scarlett, truly I should have realised how you'd react. I wasn't thinking. I shouldn't have taken her out of your room." She made no reply.

"Look at me, Scarlett," he said quietly and she met his dark eyes unwillingly. "Just because we had an argument doesn't mean I'm taking back everything I said to you this morning. I love you, that's not going to change. I'm not going anywhere. Do you believe that?" She nodded and stared down at her lap.

"I need to apologise for what I said earlier, I didn't mean to upset you."

"I'm sorry too, for making such a mess of everything. I don't know how to fix this Rhett, I can't undo what I've done."

"Shhh," he put his fingers to her lips to silence her. "There's nothing to fix, let's just put it behind us and move on. I don't want us to dwell on the past." Scarlett nodded her agreement.

"Do you have a smile for me?" he asked and she complied. "Good girl. I thought we might be in trouble there for a moment. I haven't got another handkerchief on me."

He took her face in his hands and kissed her tenderly, then moved to pick up the baby and handed her to Scarlett.

"Where were you anyhow?" she asked as she stroked Cat's cheek. "I called you."

"We were in the pantry. I'm sorry, I didn't hear you."

"What, are you going deaf in your old age?" she grumbled.

"Apparently. With incontinence and senility not far behind," he deadpanned and when she snorted he smiled back at her.

"You shouldn't joke about things like that Rhett, I'm the one who'll be nursing you in your dotage."

"Heaven forbid!" he exclaimed with mock horror. "Well not for another fifty years or so. I hope," he added after doing the math.

She arched her brows in amusement. "You planning on living to a hundred?"

"Why not?" he asked. "Your miserable old goat of a grandfather is what, 95? And Grandma made it to a century, so chances are my pet, that you're barely a third of the way there." He leaned in and kissed her cheek, "I intend to spend a very long time making you happy."

"In that case I'll have to do a good job of looking after you."

"I look forward to it with only the smallest amount of trepidation," he winked at her, then pulled back and resumed laying the table.

"Speaking of Grandfather," said Scarlett as she laid the drowsy Cat back down in her padded basket,"would you believe he offered to leave me his entire, quite considerable estate if I would stay and look after him until he died."

"Strange," mused Rhett his brows coming together in consternation, "he appeared perfectly lucid when I met him, I didn't realise the poor man was out of his mind."

"Bite your tongue!" she cried, trying to sound annoyed but could not suppress a smile. "Miss Eleanor had a crush on him when she was young you know. She told me so herself."

"Dear lord, I think I might be going deaf after all! I could have sworn you just said that my mother and your-" She threw a cushion at him and he caught it neatly and placed it against the back of her dining chair.

"You'd better behave yourself from now on or I'll put you in an infirmary and find a nice, young gentleman to keep me company," she said haughtily, emphasising the appropriate words as she fluffed up her skirts.

"What in the devil?" He ignored her comment as he grabbed a booted ankle and raised her leg, pulling her skirt up towards her knee. "Coloured petticoats while you're mourning your dearly departed husband, Scarlett?" He dropped her foot and clutched his chest in mock despair. "I'm appalled!"

"You're lucky I wore any black for you at all." She grinned at him and ran her fingers through her loose hair. "Lord, I probably look a fright!"

"Well, you do have pillow creases on your left cheek," Rhett offered.

"What?" she gasped, her hand going to her face. "Why didn't you say something?"

She got up ran to the small mirror hanging on the wall to inspect the damage and groaned at the face she saw looking back at her.

"Leave it Scarlett," he said coming up behind her as she attempted to smooth her tangled hair. "You look delightfully mussed."

"Oh, but what if someone-"

"Colum won't be back for hours yet." He took her hands in his, removing them from their preening and wrapped both of their arms around her waist, looking at her in the mirror. "I'll brush it for you later, if you like."

Her eyes met his over her shoulder and she smiled back at him, remembering how Rhett had always loved playing with her hair, remembering the feel of his hands as they caressed her. He turned her in his arms and kissed her forehead, holding her against his chest for a moment. She closed her eyes and breathed him in, feeling truly safe and content for the first time in years. It felt glorious.

"Hungry?" He asked, pulling back slightly and smiling down at her.

"I'm starving."

"Let's eat and then you can go and change out of that ghastly black and into something colourful, even if the only thing you have is your dressing gown."

She moved out of his embrace and went over to inspect the table. "This looks delicious." He pulled out a chair for her and she sat down and stuffed a piece of bread into her mouth, then began plating up some food. He watched with amusement clear on his face as she dug in.

"Are you really planning to eat all of that?"

Scarlett shrugged and swallowed her mouthful. "Why not? Colum told me Queen Victoria sits down to a twelve course meal twice a day, and that includes at least 6 puddings. He assures me it's the truth, although I'm not entirely convinced."

"Have you seen what she looks like?" he asked as Scarlett prepared to shovel another forkful into her mouth.

"You know me well enough by now to realise I can eat whatever I like, Rhett. Besides, feeding a baby is hard work. I don't know how women managed during the war with nothing to eat."

The meal brought to Scarlett's mind an unhappier time when he had cooked breakfast for her in the ruin that was Dunmore Landing. Things had been so strained between them then. Now there was a friendly, jovial atmosphere at the table, and any lulls in the conversation was not uncomfortable for either. They simply ate in companionable silence.

So," Rhett put his knife and fork together on the plate and leaned back in his chair, folding his arm across his chest, "tell me about that enormous bed of yours."

Her eyes met his and she waited a beat before answering, as if trying to decide what he meant by the question. "It's called a State bed. Mrs Fitzpatrick told me it was probably made for a visit by the viceroy."

"Is it comfortable?" He'd be sleeping there tonight, and the corners of Scarlett's mouth twitched up into a slight smile as she buttered another slice of bread.

"Perfectly, thank you," she replied, concentrating on her task as she felt the heat begin to rise in her face.

"Scarlett?" he prodded, leaning forward slightly. "Are you blushing?"

"No." She reluctantly met his gaze.

"You are too!" When she flushed even more, Rhett's dark eyes danced with mischief.

"I'm not quite sure this is appropriate dinner conversation."

"Whatever's wrong with discussing the merits of a piece of furniture?" he enquired innocently. "I'm not the one reading between the lines."

"What's your interest in my bed anyhow?" she countered. "I thought we agreed I was going to lend you a blanket and let you sleep on my kitchen floor. Unless you'd prefer the stables?"

"You can do whatever you want with me, Scarlett." Her heart skipped a beat at the double entendre. "Saved," he said, tearing his eyes from hers and glancing over his shoulder as Cat started to cry in her bassinet.

Scarlett pushed her chair back and got up to tend the baby, feeling a shiver of anticipation run down her spine as Rhett's dark eyes followed her across the room.

TBC

--

**Thanks for reading. J.**

**(Bit of useless info: that 12 course meal bit I heard on _Bargain Hunt_ - antiques and collectibles show - recently so I'm assuming it's true. Google was unhelpful.)**


	14. Chapter 14

**Thanks to everyone who's reviewed.**

**Before it drives me completely insane, here's part 14. It ends in a rather unfortunate place, but at the rate I edit my longer chapters, if I hadn't chopped this one in half you'd have been waiting til Christmas. Enjoy.**

* * *

Colum had returned late in the afternoon with Rhett's bags and an invitation from Morland Hall to dinner whenever was convenient. He had stayed for a supper of leftovers from the night before and had enjoyed a drink with the pair before making his departure.

Now, several hours later, Scarlett lay awake staring into the darkness of her bedroom, Rhett's deep measured breathing next to her evidence of his slumber.

She was a coward. She'd had an opening wide enough to drive a herd of stampeding elephants through and yet she'd chickened out. And in doing so, by putting it off, she had made it even harder.

She thought back to the conversation they'd had a few hours earlier as they prepared for bed, when he had drawn her into his arms and kissed her hair, and it had become clear to her he had no intention of anything more than sleep happening in their bed tonight.

-------------------------

"What about-?" Scarlett asked as she sat on the edge of the bed, her bare feet dangling.

"What?" Rhett asked, putting an arm around her shoulders.

"Well, aren't we going to- ." She faltered. Did he not want her in that way? No, of course he did, she'd felt evidence of his desire for her when he had kissed her earlier.

"Aren't we going to what?" he enquired innocently.

"You enjoy making me squirm, don't you," she grumbled, folding her hands primly in her lap.

"Occasionally," Rhett smiled as he pulled her a little closer. "Scarlett, it's been an emotional day. I don't know about you, but I'm tired. There'll be plenty of time for that. I've waited this long for you, I'm sure I can hold out a little longer. Lets just go to bed."

Confusion flitted across her face. After the way he'd been teasing her all day, she'd just assumed that they would-

"Are you still angry at me about Cat?" she asked in a small voice.

"What? Scarlett, no. Where have you been today that you've not heard what I said to you?"

"On a cloud mostly." Rhett chuckled softly.

"So it would seem. Well come back down to earth for just a minute and listen to me. I understand why you did what you did, my pet, and I'm not holding any grudges against you for that. I don't want to wake up thirty years from now and realise I've wasted a golden opportunity to be happy by harbouring resentments when there's no need and they're only going to make me unhappy. I'm not interested in that kind of relationship. We did it before and god knows it was a disaster." He took her hand in his, entwining his fingers with hers, then pressed the back of her hand to his lips."And don't ever think for a minute that I don't want to make love to you. I still want you more than I've ever wanted any other woman."

"And I've made you wait longer than anyone else," she finished.

"You have indeed." he smiled gently at her.

"Then why? It's been nearly two months, there's no need for us to wait."

"I don't want to rush you into anything or make you feel obliged to be with me so soon. I sprung quite a surprise on you by turning up here this morning and you've been jittery all evening about exactly this. Am I right?"

She shrugged. "That doesn't mean I don't want to."

"I know it doesn't, but it's been an emotional day for both of us. I want you to feel sure that you're ready. And you've just had a baby, Scarlett. Your body's been through one hell of a trauma." He paused. "I don't want to risk you becoming pregnant."

She stared at him dumbfounded, then looked away. How could she not yet have told him she would never bare another child? She'd thought of it earlier as she had fed the baby for the last time before putting her down for the night, but they'd been so wrapped up in Cat and each other she had been unwilling to break the mood. When she had finished nursing Scarlett had handed the baby over to her father who had put her on his chest and lain on the couch like that until Cat was asleep. The scene had touched her deeply, his love for their child so obvious to her that she couldn't bare to ruin it for him. Not just yet. And as the promise of what she'd expected to happen in this bedroom loomed large in front of her, she'd simply put it from her mind. Tomorrow. She would tell him tomorrow.

"Not after what you've just been through," he continued, putting his arms around her. "I can't, no I won't risk losing you Scarlett. Not when I've just got you back. Not ever." She could hear the raw emotion in his voice as he spoke, see the fear for her safety written plain on his face. "There are things we can do to prevent your conceiving, one in particular that's more effective than the others, but I didn't exactly come prepared for that eventuality. It doesn't mean we can't be together. There are other things we could do in the mean time," he trailed off as she looked away.

She had some idea what 'other things' he was talking about, things that at one time would have turned her stomach to even think of, things that now seemed intriguing, even attractive to her were Rhett to perform them on her or vice versa. She blushed at the thought. He could do whatever he wanted with her, but not because they had to avoid intercourse. She had to tell him that wasn't necessary and yet she couldn't bring herself to do so.

"From the colour of your cheeks I take it you know at least something of what I'm talking about?" Hot blood was flooding her face. "Think about it, take some time to get used to the idea. We don't have to do anything you're uncomfortable with." He pulled her closer and kissed her hair, then drew back the covers and they climbed into bed.

And so she lay there, a feeling of dread mingled with a small amount of what she could only describe as relief that he hadn't wanted to make love to her. She wanted to, god knows she ached for him, and yet she was nervous. Was that part of the reason she hadn't been able to tell him?

They had been together only twice in the six years since Bonnie's birth and she was afraid of disappointing him. She'd never worried about that before, had never much cared about pleasing Rhett in bed, she'd simply allowed him to take what he wanted from her as her duty as his wife. Her marital relations with him had, in that respect, been much the same as with her other husbands. Any emotion Rhett felt had always been carefully held in check, and for her part, was absent altogether.

Of course she was no innocent, but in some ways she felt she was just that, like a virgin bride on her wedding night. They had never been together, she had never been with anyone, in a way that made her feel completely open and vulnerable, stripped naked, as she did now. It frightened her. That drunken night he had carried her up the stairs and a brief coupling on a rain swept beach somehow didn't count. Neither had been in control of themselves, driven by rage or fear, their actions fueled by lust or alcohol or jealousy. Now there was nowhere to left hide.

She felt a pressure she had not known before to make sure he enjoyed himself, to give him as much pleasure as she knew he was capable of bringing her. And she honestly had very little idea how to go about accomplishing that. Unlike Rhett, her knowledge of the act was basic. He'd probably had all manner of things done to him by all manner of different and vastly more experienced, not to mention more skilful women than she. Scarlett shook off the thought, she would not think about that now. Perhaps she could ask him to teach her what he liked, if she didn't die of embarrassment first. He certainly knew how to please women.

But more importantly, what would he think of the fact that there would be no more Butler babies? He'd tell her once more it was immaterial whether she had one child or twenty, but she didn't know if she'd believe it. Rhett loved babies and she would have given just about anything to provide him with another. But it wasn't to be. And it broke her heart. Years ago Scarlett hadn't cared, but she now hated to deprive him of the joy of having another baby. The thought of having that conversation worried her far more than being physically intimate with him again. And the thought of extinguishing forever any hope he might harbour of future babies together, made her feel sick.

She pushed herself up onto her elbow and looked at his sleeping face in the faint light of the low-burning fire, his head turned slightly towards her on the pillow. Would he look at her differently now, as less of a woman?

Tears welled in her eyes and she blinked them away. Cat started to whimper in her crib signifying she was awake and wanted to be fed so Scarlett slipped out of bed as gently as she could so as not to disturb Rhett. She put her bare feet on the cold floor, pulled on her wrapper and made her way over to the baby. Positioning herself comfortably in the rocking chair, Scarlett drew a soft blanket over her knees to keep the chill out and unlaced her nightgown. She sat rocking gently while she fed the baby, her eyes closed as slow, weak tears trickled down her cheeks.

---------------

"Scarlett?" She started as she felt his hand in her loose hair. She opened her eyes and involuntarily clutched at the neckline of her nightgown, making sure she had properly covered her breast when she'd finished nursing. Silly, she'd let him watch earlier, but it still felt foreign to her to have a man's eyes on her like that, even if they belonged to her baby's father.

"I didn't hear you get up," she said, swiping a hand quickly across her cheeks to erase the evidence of her distress, but she knew it was too late. He would have already noticed.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you like that." He crouched down next to the chair and gently stroked the baby's head. "Would you like to tell me what's wrong?"

"I was just having trouble sleeping. It's nothing Rhett, " she said quietly, her eyes trained down. He lifted her chin gently and turned her face to look at him.

"I don't believe you. You've been crying." He cupped her cheek and brushed the wetness away with his thumb. "But tears aside, I can always tell when you're lying to me, Scarlett."

She frowned at him, pursing her lips in displeasure. "I'll have to work on that."

"I rather hope you won't need to. Are you finished?" he asked softly, gesturing towards the baby. When Scarlett nodded he took the sleeping child from her, kissed the top of her head and replaced Cat in her crib. His eyes lingered there for a moment before he turned his attention back to her mother.

He held out his hand to her, pulled her to her feet then picked her up in his arms and, taking her place in the rocking chair, sat down with Scarlett in his lap. He tucked the blanket securely around them both and pulled her close to rest her head against his chest. "Comfortable?" she nodded against him. "Now are you going to tell me what's bothering you? Please?"

"It's about earlier," she started quietly, "why you didn't want to- Well I just thought we were going to-" Oh god, why was this so hard? She could feel heat rising in her face and thanked the lord the room was barely light.

"Make love?" She nodded and Rhett sighed and pulled her a little closer.

"And then when you gave me your reason why you thought we should wait, well I should have said something straight away. But I was suddenly afraid. I didn't want to ruin the moment and I don't want it to ruin everything now." She couldn't look at him, see the bitter disappointment she knew would be in his eyes when she told him.

"What could possibly ruin what we have Scarlett? I thought we'd worked through all our problems. We love each other, I want you to feel comfortable telling me anything." She nodded and sniffed a little.

"I can't have any more babies, Rhett," she said in barely more than a whisper. "Not ever."

"Is that what this is about?" He took her hand in his, "Scarlett, I wouldn't want you to risk it, not after what you went through to have Cat." His words made her feel slightly better, though there was always a chance he might change his mind or come to regret it later. "Like I said earlier, there are things we can do to prevent-"

"No Rhett, listen to me." She sat up and turned to face him. "Physically, I can't, no matter how much we try. There was so much damage done by the miscarriage. Grainne told me when she delivered Cat that she-" Scarlett swallowed hard and took a breath. Her cheeks heated as she felt his eyes on her, waiting. "She took the womb out with the baby."

Rhett sucked in a sharp breath, his eyes wide with horror. "My God, Scarlett!" His body was rigid beneath hers and she knew he would have been on his feet had she not been in his lap. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her tightly against him as if afraid he might still lose her, realising how just how close to that reality they had come. "What you've been through. I feel so guilty for not having been here."

"What could you have done Rhett? Nothing. It's done and it can't be undone. No matter how hard we try, it isn't going to happen. I'm so sorry, I wish things could be different."

"Don't ever apologise for this, Scarlett. You don't have anything to be sorry for, do you hear me."

She nodded. "The irony is I'd go through it all again if I could guarantee the outcome, and even if it wasn't certain, I might still risk it. I finally understand how Melly could have made that decision. It seems so simple to me now." She looked up into his dark eyes."Oh Rhett, I'd give you a dozen babies if I could."

He couldn't help but laugh and cocked an eyebrow at her. "A dozen? I'm not quiet sure I believe you on that, my pet. Even if you are half Irish." She swatted him on the shoulder.

"Well, maybe a quarter of a dozen then." She smiled and nestled a little closer. "I was devastated when I found out, just when I finally learn what it is to love a child I don't get to repeat the experience. Are you very disappointed Rhett? "

"In a strange way it's a relief. I'd be too afraid to touch you otherwise for fear you might become pregnant. I couldn't bare to lose you Scarlett, not for the sake of a baby. Yes, I love children, our children, but to risk having another baby only for it to cost you your life would be madness." He leaned in and whispered in her ear, "Now I can have my wicked way with you to my heart's content and we don't have to worry."

"Well, when you put it like that!" She squirmed purposefully in his lap and elicited a soft groan in response.

"No, but seriously Rhett, you're not too disappointed are you?" He could see the worry in her eyes.

"I already have three beautiful children, Scarlett, that's more than I ever thought I'd have. And yes, it's enough, don't ever think it's not. You, just as you are, would be enough for me. You're all I've ever wanted. Anything else is just icing on the cake." He kissed her temple and gently stroked her back.

"Thank you for saying all the right things, Rhett. I feel like a weight's been lifted off my shoulders."

"Are you well now though?" His face was serious, as he put his hand on her belly and she covered it with her own. They both knew how lucky she was to be alive.

"I'm fine. I don't feel much different really, well maybe better than I have in the last few years. I had some trouble after the miscarriage, but that's all in the past now."

He frowned slightly. "I didn't know. You never said anything."

"We were barely on speaking terms at the time, Rhett. And that's not exactly the sort of thing you discuss with your estranged husband, is it."

"I suppose not. I'm sorry. I'm sorry we wasted so much time and I'm sorry we weren't there for each other when we needed one another." He drew her closer to him and planted a kiss on the top of her head.

"I'm sorry too, Rhett. For making you miserable, for making you wait so long for me, for not giving you a chance when you could have made me so happy, and especially for holding onto the dream of something that could never have matched a reality with you. For all the things I did wrong in our marriage."

He put his fingers to her lips. "Enough of that. I think we've both had enough apologising today to last us a lifetime." He put her on her feet and stood up. "How about we make the most of what's left of this evening. Would you like to go back to bed?" he asked and she took his hand in hers.

"What about Cat?" She looked over her shoulder towards the sleeping baby.

"She's not invited to this party."

"Rhett, I don't want to wake her."

"Were you planning on making a lot of noise?" He chuckled at her open-mouthed expression, then swept her off her feet into his arms before she could answer and strode purposefully over to the bed.

TBC

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**Thanks for reading. J.**


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N This chapter is Rated M, proceed with caution. It's not smut for the sake of smut, it's supposed to be a tender love scene, and I hope I got the tone right.**

**This is my first foray into writing this sort of thing so please be as kind as you always are. Sorry it's taken so long. I have no excuse. **

* * *

Rhett laid her gently down on the large bed and pulled the half turned down covers back a little further. Scarlett slid her feet between the sheets and snuggled down as he moved to lie next to her.

"Nervous?" He asked as he put his arm across her waist and edged a little closer. She nodded in response, her eyes cast downward. "If it makes you feel any better, so am I." And he was.

"Really?" Her eyes met and held his for a moment, finding evidence there of truth in his words, before she smiled softly and ran her hand along his arm. "I promise to be gentle."

"Said the spider to the fly," he snorted with mirth.

"Shhh, you'll wake the baby."

"Sorry," Rhett whispered, shifting nearer and bending his head to kiss her tenderly.

He slid his hand, warm and firm, up her thigh and under her nightgown until it came to rest on her belly. He could feel the raised ridge that was the scar beneath his palm and he winced inwardly at the thought of what she had endured.

As if she could read his thoughts, Scarlett's small hand came to rest atop his in a gesture of comfort. For him the mark was an unwelcome reminder of what she'd been forced to bear alone, for her it was a badge of honour, a testament to her triumph over almost insurmountable odds.

"May I see it?" he asked quietly.

When she nodded, Rhett edged the hem of her nightgown upwards over her hips until it rested in her waist, exposing her abdomen to his eyes. He drew in a breath when he saw the wound, it's true character diminished somewhat by the soft glow of the firelight. Knowing it was there, that she had endured such a horror was one thing. Seeing evidence thereof was quite another.

Scarlett was barely breathing as she watched his movements, his hand coming to rest lightly on her still slightly rounded belly. She'd shed most of the weight she'd gained during her pregnancy but her body still hadn't had a chance to get back to normal yet. Her breasts were different, fuller, the nipples larger and darker. And the fact that she had carried another child was evidenced not only by the roundness of her belly and the scar that marked it, but by the small red stretch marks that had started to appear on her hips in the last weeks before Cat's birth. She had always prided herself on having been able to escape them in previous pregnancies. She knew Rhett wouldn't care, any more than she would care if his body were different, and yet she couldn't help but feel awkward under his appraisal.

Her cheeks started to burn as she felt his eyes on her and she turned her head away.

"Scarlett?" He was looking up at her face. Of course he always noticed everything. He lifted his hand to her cheek and turned her to look at him. "I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable."

"I've changed since the last time we were together," she said quietly.

"They'll fade." He looked down once more and ran his fingers lightly over her satin skin. "You'll always be beautiful to me, Scarlett, no matter what. And the fact that this body has created another new life, our child, makes it all the more special to me. I love you even more for that." Rhett could see the belief in her eyes, mingled still with a degree of uncertainty, but when he made to pull her nightdress back down over her hips, she put her hand on his to stop him.

"It's alright." she said quietly. It was a show of trust, he knew, an indication of her unwillingness to have any barriers between them, and yet he knew she wasn't truly comfortable. He cast serious eyes back to her face. "You are beautiful, Scarlett, don't ever doubt that. Maybe you just need a little reassuring."

"So reassure me," she whispered.

He reached up and slid his hand behind her neck, bringing her face to his.

The kiss was gentle at first, a simple touching of lips, but it quickly built in intensity as his tongue teased hers and his hand found its way to her breast. Scarlett wrapped her arms tightly around him and pulled him closer. When they broke away from one another, flushed and breathless, the love she saw in his eyes for her brought a lump to her throat.

He made her believed with all her heart that what he saw was beautiful to him.

"Can you take this off?" she asked, fingering his nightshirt. She wanted to see him too, to feel his skin beneath her hands.

Rhett grabbed the back of the garment and pulled it off over his head, quickly disposing of it onto the floor before lying back down beside her. "Better?"

She smiled at his eagerness and tentatively ran her fingers over the hard planes of his chest, the well-defined muscles of his arms, then down over the scar on his abdomen.

It was longer than Scarlett's but had faded to white years ago and now blended with the rest of his skin. It hadn't gone anywhere near as deep as hers. She'd never really bothered to explore his body before, any more then she had wanted him to look at hers. Now she relished the opportunity of getting to know this man.

"You didn't nearly die from this, did you," she said looking critically at the mark. It wasn't a question.

"Are you implying, madam, that I may have embellished my story somewhat?" he cocked an eyebrow.

"I am," she challenged.

"Well you'd be right. I nearly passed out at the sight of all the blood, but it wasn't exactly life threatening." He cast his eyes back to the long vertical slash that marked her body.

"I'll say this for Grainne," he said, peering more closely at her belly, "she's certainly an excellent needlewoman. This craftsmanship is exquisite." Scarlett smiled down at him, pleased that he was able to find some lightness in what, for a time, had been such a dire situation.

His fingers whispered over her skin, a feather light caress over the red welt, before he bent his dark head and pressed his lips to it ever so gently.

Scarlett's cheeks were hot and her heart beat wildly at the intimacy of his action, a heavy throb settling between her thighs as she watched him. His hands were warm on her hips as his tongue traced the length of the scar, briefly dipping into her navel and causing her breath to hitch. And when he shifted further down the bed, as his lips moved lower and his intentions became clear to her, her eyes rolled back in her head, all rational thought or ideas that she should protest his actions gone. She didn't care.

Never had she willingly allowed him this freedom. It was not something she had ever felt comfortable with before and she'd been ashamed had he attempted to pleasure her in this way. But now, now-

He was expressing his love for her in the most intimate way and she cherished it rather than feeling disgusted or embarrassed. She knew he was enjoying himself as much as she and the more she responded vocally, the more her body writhed and arched under his attentions, the more he increased his efforts.

Rhett knew enough to know that while she was feeding her baby she would require extra stimulation in order to receive him comfortably and he set about his task with a gentle fervour.

He touched and caressed her body, using his mouth and hands on her, until every nerve ending was afire and hungry for more. Testing her readiness he felt a surging response in his groin as her walls clamped hungrily around his fingers. Scarlett's own hands found her breasts, her palms rubbing over her nipples as a silent hope that she didn't start leaking flitted vaguely across her passion-dulled mind.

"Rhett, please," came a strangled plea as the intensity of feeling threatened to overwhelm her, "I want you with me."

He moved up and over her, and positioned himself between her legs.

"If I'm hurting you at all, tell me and I'll stop." She nodded and he lowered his head and kissed her tenderly. She could taste herself on his lips and the eroticism of it drove her arousal to even greater heights. He pulled back and looked down into her flushed face.

The gaze she met was serious, dark with desire for her. Any notion that it might be awkward or uncomfortable to look him in the eyes quickly vanished as she found herself mesmerised, held captive by the love for her she saw in his face. It erased any lingering fears she may have felt. She was no longer nervous, Rhett made her feel safe, and she trusted him with her heart and her body in a way she had never done with anyone before.

He pushed into her slowly, gently forcing his way past the resistance as her muscles fluttered around his sweet invasion, Scarlett's breath coming in short pants. His eyes never left her face as he watched her closely for any signs of distress. God she was so tight. They'd been together only twice in the last six years and he could feel she was unaccustomed to the sensation. He held still for a few moments letting her body get used to his presence, while regaining some control over his own need, then pulled back and pushed in a little further. When her face grimaced in discomfort he stopped dead.

"Are you alright?" his dark eyes were full of concern.

"Yes," she gasped, tilting her hips slightly and trying to force her body to relax. "Keep going."

She was more than ready for him, she was wet, so why was this uncomfortable? It wasn't the operation, it was- what? Perhaps it was because she hadn't been with a man for so long, or maybe carrying a baby for nine months strengthened those muscles and when Cat hadn't passed through the birth canal they'd remained that way. Scarlett didn't know.

He withdrew slightly and slowly pushed forward once more, then repeated the action going a little deeper each time, rocking gently until her was fully within her. Her breathing was shallow. Somehow it felt like the first time again, like he was the one taking her virginity. And in a way he was, perhaps not physically, but emotionally. They truly were making love to one another for the first time. Hot tears sprang to her eyes at the thought, but she blinked them away.

"Are you alright, Scarlett?" He repeated the question.

She nodded, seeing the uneasiness in his face, and brought her hand up to his cheek. "You don't need to be so careful of me, Rhett, I'm not going to break."

She tightened herself around him and he started to move. He was gentle with her, his pace slow and measured as he avoided placing all his weight on her. His eyes never left hers as he watched her face intently for any indication that he should stop.

But any feelings of discomfort had quickly given way to pleasure and she pulled him down to her, needing to feel his weight pressing her into the mattress. He was hard muscles and masculinity beneath her fingers, as she ran her hands over the smooth skin of his back and up into his hair before pulling his mouth down onto hers.

And, just as all that was Rhett consumed Scarlett, he too became overwhelmed by the scent of her, the feel of her soft flesh beneath his hands and the wet heat of her body engulfing him.

Soft sighs and moans filled the air, as they made gentle love to one another. There would be plenty of time for unrestrained passion later. This was not purely about physical pleasure so much as a reaffirming and strengthening of the emotional bond between them. They were getting reacquainted with one another, re-establishing a tie that had been broken by abuse and time.

All to soon her hands on his buttocks were pulling him deeper, holding him in place as her body jerked beneath his, her muscles squeezing him over and over in a vice-like grip. Scarlett muffled a cry against his neck as she came, and Rhett held fast, riding out the storm as her body climaxed beneath him. It would have been so easy to lose control and follow her into oblivion, but he wanted this for her, needed to know she was alright before seeking his own release.

Emotions welled within her and threatened to spilled over as she struggled to contain what she felt in that moment. This was how it was supposed to be.

She was Scarlett now, in a way she never had been before, and she felt loved and cherished and beautiful for it. She no longer wrestled her own nature or pretended to be someone she was not, something he had tried to get her to accomplish for years with little success. For probably the first time in her life she felt comfortable with who she was. Rhett loved her not in spite of what others deemed her flaws, but because of them. Because the were alike.

They had fought each other, as well as themselves, for years before they were finally able to reach this point, this common ground of mutual understanding. The enormity of this moment was lost on neither of them.

The intensity of devotion and love Rhett felt for her was plain to see. It caused a lump to rise in her throat and as he kissed her face with a tenderness and reverence that was overwhelming to her, hot tears prickled, then escaped the corners of her eyes.

As her small body started to tremble beneath him, no longer with the clench, release of passion, Rhett realised with horror that she was crying. But as he made to shift his weight off her, her arms and legs immediately snaked around him, preventing him from moving, holding him firmly in place.

"Don't go."

He pushed himself up on his hands and looked down into her flushed face to see slow tears seeping down her temples and into her hair. "Scarlett, are you alright?" he asked trying to keep the alarm from sounding in his voice. Maybe she hadn't been well enough after all.

"I'm perfect." She smiled up at him, her green eyes blazing.

"You're crying," he brushed a tear away with his thumb. "I thought maybe I'd hurt you."

"What? Rhett, no! These are happy tears!" She wriggled beneath him. "I feel all warm and tingly and wonderful." He dropped back down to rest on his elbows, sliding his forearms beneath her shoulders and his hands into her tangled hair, then bent to kiss away the wetness from her cheeks.

"You are wonderful, my darling." She flushed with pleasure and smiled shyly up at him. "I'm a lucky man."

"You are indeed," she agreed.

"Thank you," he said quietly. "Thank you for accepting me back into your life and giving us another chance. I don't know if I deserve it, but-"

"Shhh, Rhett. Let's leave the mistakes in the past where they belong." She put her fingers to his lips to silence him, then pulled his head down to hers and kissed him again deeply.

"I love you, Scarlett," he murmured against her lips, "with all my heart."

"I know," she whispered back as her voice threatened to fail her and tears began to sting her eyes once more. He pressed his mouth to hers once more and she threaded her fingers in his soft black hair and held him to her. When he pulled back a wide grin split his face. She couldn't help but beam in return.

"What about you?"

"What about me?" He couldn't resist.

"Well, you've been so concerned about making me feel good, that you haven't-" She could still feel him hard inside her.

Rhett raised an eyebrow in anticipation of the end of the sentence.

"-finished," she concluded with an embarrassed smile. She wanted to touch him, caress his body, feel the warmth of his desire filling her as he trembled above her.

"Are you ready for more?" he asked.

Scarlett clenched her muscles around him in answer and to her satisfaction was rewarded with a deep groan.

"When have you ever known me to turn down a second helping?"

TBC.

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**Thanks for reading. J.**


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N. Phew! I made it in under the wire! Don't all faint at once now. This is the last chapter, I do hope you enjoy it.**

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The early light of day had not yet begun to penetrate the heavy curtains of her bedroom when Scarlett awoke the next morning. Cat, her alarm clock for the past two months, was still sleeping peacefully in her crib, so Scarlett had no idea of the time. She lay unmoving for several minutes, her limbs heavy and loose with lethargy, luxuriating in the comfort of the bed and the feel of Rhett beside her. The solid warmth of his body next to hers, the scent of his skin, the protective arm draped loosely around her shoulder and the slow, steady-beating heart beneath her ear gave her a contentment she hadn't felt in years.

She shifted carefully onto one elbow, trying not to disturb him and looked down at Rhett's sleeping face in the soft light of the fire. God, how she'd missed him. A shadow of stubble covered his chin, and she couldn't resist stroking the back of her finger down his roughened cheek.

"Didn't your mother teach you that it's rude to stare?" he murmured quietly, his eyes still closed.

"You're supposed to be asleep," she grumbled, "and no, not that I recall. Besides, what's wrong with admiring a thing of beauty?"

He smiled slightly and opened his eyes to look at her. "I'm glad to see your tastes have improved, my dear." He put his arm back around her and pulled her closer.

"I've always thought you were handsome, Rhett, I just didn't like to give you the satisfaction of knowing as much," said Scarlett, as she settled her head once more on his chest. She sighed contentedly as he drew lazy patterns with his fingers on her shoulder.

"I do believe you're purring my dear," he said, his hand finding it's way into her hair.

"I believe you're right," she agreed. "And why shouldn't I? I haven't felt this good in years."

"Glad to be of service." He wrapped both arms around her. "Maybe we could do that again sometime."

"Maybe."

"I think I'll hold you to that." He gave her a light squeeze. "So, now that you've sampled the merchandise are you planning on making a purchase?"

Scarlett laughed. "Is that your roundabout way of asking me to marry you?"

"It is."

"I thought you already had."

"Not to my recollection. We simply discussed the possibility of my buying you a new ring."

Scarlett pushed herself back up and looked at him. "You mean I went to bed with a man who hadn't even promised to make an honest woman of me afterwards?" Rhett shrugged. She narrowed her eyes at him in mock displeasure.

"What?"

"I think this is even worse form than the last time you asked me to marry you, Rhett Butler!"

"Yes, you're probably right," he conceded. "We might want to come up with a better story to tell the grandchildren. The first time Grandpa asked Grandma to marry him she was drunk and had just buried her husband. The second time, well…"

"I think we might just omit the whole thing altogether! I'm not terribly keen on anyone knowing we were divorced." She eyed him curiously. "How did you manage to do the impossible anyhow? Getting the divorce granted, I mean."

"I greased the right palms," he said with a hint of bitterness in his voice.

"Think they can be ungreased?" she asked quietly. "Could you at least try? For Cat's sake, as much as mine."

"It'll be top of my list when we get back to America. I don't know if it'll do any good," he could see the hope in her eyes as he ran his fingers through her hair in a gentle caress, "but it can't hurt to try. "

"Thank you. In the mean time," she said, taking his hand in hers. "I think we should get remarried anyway. Just in case."

"Three weddings weren't enough for you, my pet?" he teased.

Scarlett arched her brows at him. "Do you want me to turn you down?"

"No."

"Then you'd better behave and get back to business." She plumped up her pillows, then lay back down next to him, her arms crossed over her chest. "So tell me, what are the terms of this deal should I choose to accept?"

"Ah, well," he cleared his throat dramatically, "I promise to love, honour, and cherish you til death us do part."

Scarlett made a face. "Hardly convincing, Rhett. You said that last time."

"So did you, as I recall," he muttered before quickly continuing. "Alright, I'll be nice to you. I'll keep you warm at night, ply you with good food and wine-"

"Mrs Fitz likes to hide things from me on the top self of the pantry."

"I thought the way to a _man's_ heart was through his stomach." He thought for a moment. "I'll move a chair for you so you can reach."

"That isn't exactly what I had in mind, but it'll do. What else?"

"I'll take you dancing,"

"I like dancing."

"Convenient, now stop interrupting. I'll buy you all the pretty things your heart desires, defend your honour,"

"What's left of it," she muttered.

"I thought I asked you to be quiet." She looked contrite and put a finger to her lips in a childlike gesture. "Good, now pay attention because this if the most important part. I'll tell you what I'm thinking when you want to know, I won't run away from you when times get rough," he kissed her gently on the lips, "and I'll love you with all my heart."

"Sounds reasonable I suppose," she said casually smoothing the covers around her but her calmness belied the effect his sincerity had on her, "but I may need some time to think it over."

Rhett took her by surprise, swiftly pulling her down in the bed, then moved on top of her and began kissing her neck.

"Say yes," he whispered, "or I'll never let you leave this room."

"I'm not seeing the downside to this plan," breathed Scarlett in a slightly strangled voice, trying to appear unaffected by his assault. "You're going to have to try harder than that, Rhett Butler, if you want me to say yes."

His hand found its way to her breast and brushed lightly over the nipple causing her breath to hitch.

"I think you'll find I can make quite a convincing argument when properly motivated," he murmured in a low voice that gave her goose bumps, before sucking her earlobe into his mouth.

"Oh, God, who's arguing?" she groaned in response. She could feel the beginnings of his renewed interest pressing against her legs, just as her own body was beginning to throb.

"Is that a yes then?" he pulled back and looked down at her, his eyes alert. Scarlett nodded. "You're not going to change your mind?"

She shook her head and smiled at the question, then cast her eyes downward. "Well, I am fond of you Rhett, in spite of your various misdeeds and shortcomings, and we do have a lot in common," she teased, wondering if he would remember her words from all those years ago, and was not disappointed as she saw the recollection behind his eyes. "Besides, you did tell me once that marriage could be fun, and I think I'm finally inclined to believe you."

"And about time too!" He rolled them over and lifted her a little higher onto his chest, staring into her eyes. She was lying on top of a naked man, her own nightgown bunched up around her hips, and it felt like the most natural thing in the world. He ran his hands down her back and cupped her bottom, pulling her tight against him.

"Wait!" Rhett groaned and shut his eyes as she pushed away from him and scrambled over to her side of the bed. She opened a small box on the bedside table and retrieved her wedding band, then held it out to him in the palm of her hand. "Will you put it on? I know it's only a symbolic gesture, but it would make me feel better wearing it again."

Rhett took the ring and slid it onto her finger, then bent his dark head and placed a gentle kiss on the gold band.

"I have a sneaky suspicion my fourth husband is going to be my favourite."

"Praise indeed when you consider the competition." Scarlett could hear the sarcasm in his voice.

"Don't be mean," she chided before leaning in for a kiss. As if on cue, Cat started to wail and both turned their heads in the direction of the crib.

"Someone's jealous, I think."

"I hope that's not a trend she's trying to set," Scarlett grumbled, moving off him to sit up. "Would you mind?"

Rhett rolled out of bed, pulled on his robe and went over to the crib to retrieve the baby. She ceased her crying as he lifted her into his large hands and reached her arms up to his face.

"Good morning, beautiful girl." He planted a soft kiss on an outstretched hand. "Are you hungry, my darling?" He handed the baby over to her mother.

"You're not the only one, Kitty Cat, Momma's starving too," said Scarlett as she retrieved her thumb from the tiny fist that held it captive before guiding Cat to her breast. The pair were silent for a while, enjoying the simple pleasure of watching their daughter nursing.

"Do you think your mother'd be willing to bring the children over with her if she comes?" asked Scarlett. "I want them here with us even if we don't stay for that much longer."

"I don't see why not."

"That's if they'll come," she said in a muted voice that was tinged with regret.

"Why wouldn't they?"

"Oh, I don't know, maybe because I've been a terrible mother to them and they hate me."

"They don't hate you, Scarlett."

"I farmed them off to Tara to live with my sister after Melly died and I've barely seen them since."

He was silent for a moment. "You've written them though, sent them presents-"

"Gifts hardly make up for years of neglect, Rhett."

"I know for a fact they miss you. Ella told me so herself."

"Really?" Scarlett asked, taken aback. "Have you seen her?"

"She wrote me last month to thank me for her birthday present."

"I didn't know you'd kept in touch," she said quietly. "I thought that after the divorce-"

He looked at her surprised. "I write them often. They're my children too, Scarlett. I couldn't forget them even if I wanted to. I'm still responsible for their welfare. Emotional if perhaps not financial, although they'd never have wanted for anything."

"Picking up the slack because I've been such a bad mother to them."

"You did the best you could at the time." He pulled her to him and smoothed her hair. He knew it was a sore spot.

"That's a nice change of tune from what you said yesterday."

"I'm feeling charitable this morning." He kissed the top of her head, then whispered, "Sorry."

"Alright then," continued Scarlett, steering away from one unpleasant subject, "since you're in a good mood for some reason," Rhett smiled and gave her a squeeze, "what about your sister?"

The smile was replaced with a frown.

"Well, what do we do? I can't go round hating both your siblings. I think," she said slowly, "that for the sake of family unity-"

"What's wrong with Ross?" he interrupted, "besides him being a drunkard and a layabout?" When she made no reply he assumed that was the answer to his question. "I can't believe you're not more angry about this, Scarlett."

"I'm plenty angry, Rhett, but I can also understand why she did it, trying to save her beloved brother from the clutches of his evil witch of an ex-wife. I've certainly done things I'm not proud of to protect my family. Can't you appreciate that? Rhett?"

He sighed. "Of course I understand her thinking. I was married to you for seven years, wasn't I?"

"Don't be hateful," Scarlett reproached quietly, although she had to admit it did sound like something she might have done.

"But knowing why doesn't stop me wanting to smother her with a pillow," he muttered bitterly. Scarlett took his hand in hers.

"Do we invite her over or not? I'd rather not have this unpleasantness and resentment hanging over our heads, Rhett. Putting things off until tomorrow doesn't make them go away. I've tried it often enough that I should know."

He weighed his options for a moment. "Alright then, Rosemary can come with Mama if she wants to. But she's going to have to bend over backwards to earn back my trust. I'm not planning on making it easy for her either."

"Agreed. She puts a foot wrong, she's going in the stables with the ghost."

Rhett chuckled and shook his head. "I've missed you," he said tucking her hair behind her ear as she shifted Cat to her shoulder. "Moving on to a more pleasant subject," he edged a little closer, and stroked the down covering his daughter's head, "when can your cousin marry us?"

Scarlett frowned. "He can't."

"Changed your mind already, my pet?"

"No," she elbowed him in the ribs, "Colum can't do it, he doesn't perform those kinds of ceremonies. Sacraments. He visits the poor and the sick or something. Cat was christened by the local parish priest, weren't you darling," she cooed to the baby as she rubbed her back.

"I'm guessing he'll probably be busy today."

"In a hurry, aren't you?" she laughed. "It's not Sunday, is it?"

"No, but it is Christmas."

Her eyes went wide. "Lord, I completely forgot!"

"My work here is done." He said dramatically and grinned at her.

"Oh, hush up you conceited man! There are things to do. We're going to Uncle Daniel for dinner. You have about a hundred people to meet today." She tried to get up off the bed but was prevented by a pair of strong arms wrapping around her waist.

"Scarlett, wait. What do you want to tell them?" he asked. "About me, I mean."

"I don't know." She thought for a moment. "That it was all a mistake? You didn't die, you were just in some sort of catatonic state," Rhett raised his eyebrows at that, "and the letter informing me otherwise was misdirected or went astray and you weren't well enough to travel til just now to come and find me?"

He looked sceptical. "Sounds a bit thin to me."

"Do you have a better idea?"

"We could always go with a sugar-coated version of the truth."

The look she gave him would have withered lesser men. "Colum won't like it either I know, but I'm sorry Rhett, I just can't bare everyone knowing."

"Alright then, a lie it is. Lets just keep it simple and hope no-one asks too many questions." She nodded in agreement.

"Speaking of sugar, I'm-."

"Starving. I heard you the first time, my dear. I'll go down to the kitchen and bring us up something to eat while you finish with Cat." He got up off the bed and tightened the belt on his robe. "See, I'm already making good on my promise to ply you with food." He winked at her, before disappearing out the door.

"Good to know you're a man of your word," she called after him and heard his laughter echoing with his footsteps down the hall.

A faint light was beginning to filter into the room as Scarlett stood and walked over to the window, drawing back the curtains. She wiped the condensation from the glass with her sleeve and held the baby to look out with her. No mist shrouded the grounds, the sky was clear, the frost still white on the lawns. It was the beginning of a beautiful new day.

**FIN.**

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**A/N. Wow! 6 months and done! Forgive me for saying so, but I'm rather proud of myself, lol. For someone who hadn't written anything creative since high school - more than a decade - and only did so back then because she had to, I consider finishing this quiet an achievement. I thought when I started it would be about 10k words and 5 chapters. Clearly my fingers ran away with me! At least I'll know better for next time. **

**A big thank you to everyone who has been so kind as to review my story. I've loved getting every single one. Happy 2009 to all you Windies, and as always, thanks for reading. J.**


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